


Of Laundry and Love

by snipershezz



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Aleta's a Badass Mom, Almost Kiss, And the Best, Arguments, Banter, Blow Jobs, Busted Ship, Coffee, Dancing, Does the Rest of the Galaxy Have Beer?, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Embarrassed Kraglin, Emotionally Constipated Idiot, Family, Family Feels, Feels, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time Together, Fist Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Heavy Drinking, Holiday Ravager Style!, Humor, Hunting, I Accidently Made it a Thing, I Use Terran References Because I Suck At Making Up Canon Compliant Ones, I can't believe I just tagged that, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injured Kraglin, Injured Yondu, Kraglin Gives No Fucks, Kraglin Still Gives No Fucks, Kraglin Whump, Kraglin being BAMF, Kraglin figures out he's got a 'Thing' for his Captain, Kraglin gets a Promotion, Kraglin makes a crack at Yondu's height, Laundry, Light Angst, Little Bit of That Dreaded Sentiment, M/M, Minor Character Death, Missing Laundry, Missions Gone Wrong, Misunderstandings, More Misunderstandings, Panic Attacks, Playful violence, Poor Kraglin, Prehensile Cock, Probable Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Protective Yondu, Revelations, Romance, Slurs, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Sparring, Species Slurs, Stakar and Aleta adopted Yondu as their Kid, Stuck on a Random Planet, Teasing, Teritary Species, The Rest of the Universe like Terran Music, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Weird Biology, Whistling!Kraglin, Worried Parents, Yondu Whump, Yondu helps Kraglin through it, Yondu is Kinda Impressed, Yondu is an A-Grade Idiot when it comes to Other People's Feelings, Yondu's Decided He Likes It, Yondu's First Mate is an Asshole, Yondu's Got a Filthy Mouth, Yondu's a Little Dramatic When He's Drunk, Yondu's an Ass, and Suprisingly doesn't Die, because love ain't perfect ya'll, ends on a happy note, finally some porn with our plot, just - a big bucket of love ya'll, little bit of failsex, parents are the worst, poor Yondu, pure fluff, these two are so smooshy I wanna die, well they do now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-09 03:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13472793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipershezz/pseuds/snipershezz
Summary: When Yondu met Kraglin it wasn't love at first sight.  There was no romantic shit - no birds singing or dramatic kisses in the rain.  Just a skinny asshole who whistled and did the crew's laundry.





	1. Just Put Your Lips Together and Come Real Close

**Author's Note:**

> Lordy – so this was just supposed to be a cute little one-shot about Yondu and Kraglin having sex on a pile of clean laundry because – I dunno, I just needed it lol. Anyways, it got *the hell* away from me and turned into this multi-chapter *thing*. I’m *supposed* to continue working on ‘Tiny Terran’ *and* start working on ‘Reflections’ but – uh – many ideas have happened, I’ve got a beauty that I came up with two days ago which just – will *not* leave me alone, so yeah – and then there’s that other one and uh – well – there’s the zombie AU which is a product of too much Walking Dead and Z Nation (the final episode of season four – just – I both *hate* and *love* them for that cliff hanger). So yeah, goal for 2018 is to do like everyone else and work on several fics at once, so let’s ask the Gods of Multitasking for a little help for ol’ snipershezz ok? Anywho, enjoy! Love ya’ll :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Yondu loses his clothes and Kraglin ends up on his knees.

Yondu’s favourite scarf had gone missing. He rummaged through the pile of clean laundry on his bed, he was _sure_ he’d thrown it in with his bloody leathers, but it wasn’t there.  
  
Weekly laundry was mandatory. It kept lice - and other equally as fun things his idiot crew brought home with them - to a minimum. They grumbled and bitched about it something fierce whenever they had to throw their washing down the chute, but it was always better than the alternative. If they didn’t Yondu would take every scrap of clothing, boots, towels, bedding, scarves, socks - the fucking lot - and throw it in the incinerator.  
  
Walking around the ship naked wasn’t exactly _fun_. Modesty was a concept invented by prudes - something folk like Ravagers were laughably not - so that wasn’t the problem. It was more just the fact that space - was fucking _cold_ , and although the _Eclector’_ s heating kept them all from dying, the persnickety bitch wasn’t exactly luxury cruise liner comfy.  
  
Irritably, Yondu flicked his collar up over the slave brands and scarring across the back of his neck and headed out of his cabin towards the laundry room. Whichever idiot rookie was on duty would find his fucking scarf or fork out the units for a new one.

* * *

Kraglin didn’t mind laundry duty. Sure, touching the disgusting remains of what these assholes called clothes, towels, and sheets was less than pleasant, but it was quiet, and he worked alone.  
  
Which meant he could put his music on, dance around like an idiot, and whistle to his heart’s content without anyone flinching and carrying on like a bunch of fools.  
  
He didn’t understand it, his cheerful whistling didn’t sound anything like the captain’s. He assumed it was just ingrained in the crew after so many years.  
  
Whistle = Arrow = Pain.  
  
It caused him issues as he whistled unconsciously. Most of the time he didn’t even realise he was doing it, which earned him multiple glares, snarls, and clips to the back of the head daily. Hence why working down in the laundry room was actually kind of - _nice_.  
  
The piles of laundry were lined up across the bench on the back wall. Sheets and towels were all the same for the crew, neatly folded in stacks on the right. None of the other rookies bothered with folding, just made sure twenty of each went into the baskets and back up to the dorms.  
  
Clothes were a little different. Each dorm on the crew decks had its own chute which went into baskets that had to be washed separately otherwise none of the idiots would be able to find their damn clothes.  
  
There were two crew decks each housing twelve dorms, the officer’s deck was located in a separate quadrant that housed the infirmary, the tailor, and the laundry room. Three decks above him, were five rooms - four for high ranking officers and one for the captain.  
  
The captain’s laundry was the only one that was different to everyone else. The man had black towels and dark navy sheets that were more than double in size to Kraglin’s, adorning his tiny bunk, stuffed in the corner of dorm seven on deck fifteen.  
  
The material was nice too, Kraglin mused as he folded them, the captain had good taste. He flicked out one of the pillowcases and a grey strip of fabric fluttered out to pool in an elegant puddle on his boots.  
  
The Hraxian stooped down to pick it up, running it through his fingers. Damn, the scarf was nice - beautifully made - no wonder the captain wore it so much. He hung it around his neck to fold after the sheets.  
  
He picked up the next pillowcase, crowing happily when one of his favourite songs clicked on, he turned it up, repositioning the headphones. Swaying his hips suggestively to the beat, he whistled along with the crooning sounds of the saxophone.

* * *

 

Yondu kicked viciously at the elevator door, fucking thing was playing up _again_. He pulled up messaging on his wrist-pad and sent a note off to maintenance, the threat of an arrow in the ass would get them moving. With any luck, it would get fixed before some asshole got stuck in there.  
  
His biceps bulged as he pulled the doors open enough to get through and stepped up onto the deck. As the oldest part of the _Eclector_ , it was mostly free of crew - essential systems weren’t down here. This was the lowest deck before the engines beneath, and the thrum rattled the grating under Yondu’s boots.  
  
His ship may be old and pieced together using spit and a hell of a lot of good luck, but it was times like this, when Yondu was so close to her heart, that he really appreciated she was alive and she was _his_. The constant throbbing heartbeat made him feel at peace like little else did.  
  
The Centaurian headed towards the laundry room, as he got closer to the large open space at the end of the corridor, he heard whistling. It was an older tune, something Terran, Yondu remembered hearing it in a bar when they were in the Milky Way last, it was sung by a lass called Big Maybelle. Say whatever you want about Terrans, but their music was surprisingly popular with the rest of the galaxy.  
  
Hearing the soothing whistle, he was transported into a memory, fuzzy with time, something sweet and syrupy - warmth and safety. His eyes glazed over, mind chasing the thoughts that were just out of reach, like a spider’s web tickling the skin, invisible even in the harsh light of the sun. He shook his head, coming back to the present and realising he’d stopped walking entirely. Snorting at the strange light feeling filling his chest, he moved forwards.  
  
The laundry room was fashioned out of what had perhaps at one point been a cargo hold. The process of doing the Ravager washing - as disgustingly domestic as it sounded - was unsurprisingly simple. Dump the washing into the nets and blast them out into the black, kill all the mean and nasties, bring them back in, dump them in the boiling vats, then throw them in the dryers.  
  
Yondu’s washing usually came back smelling of harsh chemicals but lately whoever had been on laundry duty had been tossing some kind of spices into the mix. The room was filled with the calming smell.  
  
The rookie was a tall, pale, humanoid - not a single ounce of fat on his frame. Broad shoulders - stuffed into an ill-fitting jumpsuit - bunched as he lifted a pile of washing from the dryers. His hips were swaying back and forth like a two-unit stripper in a dingy bar and Yondu smirked leaning against the wall. The rookie was whistling, song mimicked perfectly, dipping and curving with the tune. The man turned and the Centaurian saw he was as scruffy as he was thin, a dark brown beard lined his jaw, hair cut into a half-assed, scraggly mohawk.  
  
The fluttering of something grey around his neck made Yondu’s eyes narrow. The piercing whistle, activating his arrow, went unheard due to the headphones, but when it whizzed passed the man’s head in warning, the Centaurian was treated to a startled yelp.  
  
Clean washing flew up into the air as the rookie dropped to his knees, the pile fluttering down around him.  
  
Yondu chuckled, "That shit never gets old."  
  
The man hissed out a curse at his smarting bones, pulling the headphones out and glaring at the captain, "What the fuck Cap’n?! Now I gotta wash all this again!"  
  
_Excuse tha fuck outta you?_  
  
Yondu raised a brow, "Git up boy."  
  
He stood up, stormy eyes never leaving Yondu’s, "Ain’t been a boy fer over ten years sir. What are ya doin’ down here anyways?"

The man had a mouth on him. He knew who he was talking to, yet here he was giving the Centaurian cheek. Yondu wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or impressed.  
  
He eyed him thoughtfully, the arrow was curling a lazy stripe of bioluminescent red next to the man’s ear, he didn’t flinch like the rest of the crew would, just stood there, one hip cocked out, arms crossed over his bony chest.  
  
Ok, colour him impressed. The man had a pair.  
  
Yondu whistled the arrow back, catching it between his fingers. "Yer a pretty good whistler Rook, where’d ya learn somement like that?"  
  
"Kraglin."  
  
Yondu blinked, "Wha’?"  
  
"Ma name’s Kraglin sir."  
  
Yondu glowered, "That weren’t tha question I asked _Kraglin_."  
  
A small smirk tugged at the man’s lip, revealing sharp metal incisors. Yondu tried to remember what planet that trait was from.  
  
"I reckon I asked ya what ya was doing down here first sir."  
  
The Centaurian crossed the room, snarling up at the taller man, "Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t kill yer ass fer tha fuckin’ mouth ya got on ya."  
  
Kraglin raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed and not in the least bit concerned. Fucking idiot.  
  
"Ya’d hafta re-wash yer own clothes fer one sir."  
  
Yondu looked down at the pile that surrounded them.  
  
Damn, those _were_ his leathers _and_ his underwear.  
  
"Think I care?"  
  
Kraglin shrugged, "Ya will when ya ain’t got no underwears left, leather ain’t all that comfortable if there ain’t nothin’ ta protect yer dick."  
  
Yondu blinked. A harsh bark of laughter left his throat, echoing around the room.  
  
Yeah ok, he liked this man.  
  
He snorted, a smile curling across his lips, "What are ya listenin’ to?"  
  
"Ya dun like answerin’ questions all that much do ya Cap’n?" The tone made Yondu’s glare reappear and ratchet up a notch. The taller man rolled his eyes. He picked up one of the headphones and stuffed it in his ear. After listening for a few seconds, he replied, "Andrew Sisters."  
  
Yondu held out a hand expectantly, the man gave him a curious look, but pulled the headphones from around his neck and handed them over. The Centaurian shoved them in his ears. The sounds of a big band filled his ears, the melodious voices of three women strangely soothing. He listened for a minute, eyes drifting shut.  
  
The music changed and Yondu opened his eyes, pulling out the headphones. Kraglin was looking down at him, a small smile on his face. The Centaurian realised his eyes were a piercing blue, staring into his from under ridiculously long lashes.  
  
Yondu dangled the headphones from the tip of one finger, "Ya got decent taste in music boy."  
  
A pretty blue blush spread across the other man’s cheeks.  
  
"Ain’t often I hear someone other than me whistlin’ neither."  
  
Kraglin’s face immediately fell into a scowl, "Least ya ain’t hit me fer it yet. ‘At’s why I dun mind bein’ down here, ‘cause I ain’t git yelled at e’ery time I open ma damn mouth."  
  
Yondu blinked, he could understand his crew’s aversion to whistling, sure enough, but it still wasn’t fair to go beating on the kid every time he opened his mouth. "Where you from boy?"  
  
The scowl deepened, "Hrax sir."  
  
_Ah._  
  
Hraxians weren’t often treated with any more respect than a slave. Considered stupid and instinctual, the Nova Empire had taken their planet and destroyed it, filling the once lush, tropical rainforest planet with smog and industrialisation.  
  
The Hraxians were still a little salty about the whole thing.  
  
They were a damn sight better off with the Nova than with the Kree. Yondu’s people were slaughtered or taken as slaves, their entire system laid to waste, burnt to the ground and left to rot. He was the only free Centaurian in existence, which made him pretty damn valuable.  
  
"That ball of shit planet has some o’ tha best whore houses in tha galaxy." Yondu gave a filthy grin, "’Specially them ones down in tha tunnels no one ain’t ‘posed ta know ‘bout."

The Hraxian frowned, as if he’d expected Yondu to treat him different after he knew his origins. The Centaurian smiled, he knew well enough what it was like to be treated like a stupid animal, he’d endured it for twenty years and he damn well wasn’t going to treat anyone else like that.  
  
Sure, if you were a dumb fucker, Yondu would tell you to your face, but _he_ made that judgement for _himself_ , not because of some shitty social stigma.  
  
The Centaurian tugged on the scarf around Kraglin’s neck, raising a brow, "Hope ya weren’t plannin’ on stealin’ this, be a real shame ta hafta kill ya."  
  
Kraglin started suddenly and looked down. He spied the scarf and snorted. "Fell outta a pillow case earlier, fergot it were even there." He pulled it off his neck and held it out. "Here."  
  
Yondu took it, shucking his jacket off a bit to bundle it around his neck. It smelt like those spices and a faint tang of metal - like the smell of welding.  
  
He turned on his heel and looked back at the taller man, "See ya ‘round Kraglin."  
  
The Centaurian could feel Kraglin’s eyes on him all the way back to the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two songs mentioned that Kraglin is listening to are - "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On" by Big Maybelle and "Pistol Packin' Mama" by the Andrews Sisters :)


	2. Take Me Out to the Black Tell ‘em I ain’t Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu raises a brow and Kraglin’s a cheeky fucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stole the looks and name from one of my favourite TV show characters in this chapter - 'cause I can :D

Yondu didn’t see the Hraxian for months, but occasionally he’d hear that cheerful whistling in the corridors. The crew would flinch and scowl and mutter under their breath about stupid, good for nothing backwater scuds. The Centaurian always made a point to whistle his arrow around a bit whenever he heard those mumblings.  
  
He couldn’t whistle like Kraglin though. He’d tried it one night while lying in bed and it all went a bit - _wrong_.  
  
Yondu had whistled the first few bars of a Dean Martin tune he’d heard the Hraxian whistling earlier in the day and his arrow careened wildly around the room before flying straight through the vents in his ceiling and out onto the deck above. _That_ had been a hard one to explain.  
  
So no - no cheerful whistling for Yondu.

* * *

The next time Yondu actually saw Kraglin was in the middle of a fire fight. Unfortunately - for _them_ really, Yondu had been itching for a good fight - a guard had escaped and alerted the rest of the compound, causing them to have to fight their way out.  
  
Somehow during the fray, they had ended up back to back. Yondu’s arrow eviscerating everyone in its path, blaster in his hand popping anyone stupid enough to try and get in close, Kraglin’s heat at his back, slicing down guards with a mean looking serrated machete in his left hand and dealing out throwing knives with alarming speed and accuracy with his right.  
  
Once the last of them had been dealt with they turned to each other, chests heaving. The pair were both sporting vicious grins and Yondu chuckled, adrenaline singing through his veins. "Yer pretty good wit’ them knives Kraglin."  
  
The Hraxian blushed. "It’s good ta know ya can use that arrow o’ yer fer more’n just chasin’ folk ‘round sir."  
  
Yondu glowered, "Dun be a cheeky fucker Obfonteri." At the surprised look he rolled his eyes. "Yeah I looked ya up."  
  
"Checkin’ I weren’t registered?" Kraglin sneered.  
  
The register was an unpleasant affair, it had listed every known ‘inferior’ species in the universe, information about each and a list of known ‘threats’. Yondu’s name was at the top of the list with a bounty of five hundred thousand units upon return to the Kree empire.  
  
Yondu frowned. "Tha thought never even entered ma head." He answered honestly.  
  
The Hraxian eyed him suspiciously, "You ain’t like tha rest is ya sir?"  
  
Yondu began to walk back to the rendezvous point and Kraglin fell easily into step beside him. The tall bastard. "Nah I ain’t. ‘M at tha top o’ that piece of shit list. Do _I_ look ‘inferior’ ta you?"  
  
Kraglin’s jaw dropped briefly, then snapped shut with a click, "No sir."

"‘Sactly, ain’t nothin’ but a label dumb ass rich folk use ta make ‘emselves feel more important. Don’t mean shit where it counts. If yer an idjit I’ll tell ya, but me an’ me alone make that call, understand?"  
  
The Hraxian nodded, "Yes’sir."  
  
When they reached the rendezvous Kraglin broke off to go and stand among the crew, he paused briefly, "Hey Cap’n?"  
  
"What is it Kraglin?"  
  
The man looked at Yondu’s blood soaked coat, "That shit’ll stain somement fierce, ya should bring yer coat down when ya git tha chance."  
  
Yondu blinked. "A’right." He turned away then suddenly reached out stopping Kraglin, "Hey Krags?"  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"Ya did good taday." The taller man smirked and Yondu tugged him down to murmur in his ear. "Thanks, fer watchin’ ma back."  
  
Kraglin blushed, ducking his head shyly and looking up at Yondu through his lashes, "Anytime Cap’n."

* * *

"So, where’d ya grow up?" Yondu asked as he watched Kraglin hit the airlock button that sent his coat out into the black.  
  
The man gave him an odd look, "Hrax."  
  
Yondu rolled his eyes, "I _know_ that. I mean, did ya live topside or underground, do ya got family - brothers, sisters, mom, dad?"  
  
Kraglin shot him a bemused look, "Ya really think crew what join tha Ravagers got a home ta go to? A lovin’ family?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, "Kyella do. So, does Munts, Sammy, Pinka - hell half ma crew is made up o’ Merle, Zane, an’ Wrench’s hick family."  
  
The Hraxian chuckled as he waited for the airlock to cycle, "Ain’t got no family I know of. Lived in tha tunnels most o’ ma life, n’er even saw tha surface ‘til I was almost twenty. Joined yer crew at twenty-six, that were - hell - like three year ago I think."  
  
The Centaurian nodded, kicking his legs back and forth as he leaned forwards on bench next to the dryers. He watched Kraglin tip the spice mixture into one of the vats that were just over Yondu in height. The Hraxian dumped in the coat and stirred it with a large wooden rod.  
  
"Why’d ya join?"  
  
Kraglin shrugged, "Ain’t nothin’ on Hrax fer me, ma people git treated like animals by tha Nova, like a bug they gotta squash on our own damn planet. I wanted ta be - I dunno - I wanted ta be ma own man - like - free, ya know?"  
  
Yondu chuckled humourlessly, "Least ya weren’t no slave, boy."  
  
"Least ya weren’t born in a gutter and left ta die." The other man replied sharply, fishing the coat out and putting it in a bucket. He carted it across the room, throwing it in the dryer with a bit more force than necessary.  
  
Yondu looked up sharply, "No I weren’t. I were sold as a baby. Ma own damn parents sold me ta tha Kree like I weren’t nothin’. Fer twenty years I thought it were normal ta be owned, that I were an animal, sold an’ used by anyone. I weren’t a sentient bein’, I were a thing, just a toy. ‘Till I put on that there coat, I had no idea what it was ta be ma own man - ta be _free_." Yondu huffed, shocked at himself for the outburst, he looked down at his boots. "Aww hell." He murmured to himself.  
  
Suddenly Kraglin was in front of him and pulling him into a hug. Yondu stiffened and shoved the man back. "Tha hell ya think yer doin’ boy?"  
  
Kraglin blushed, ducking his head, "Shit - uh - kinda fergot who ya were fer a sec - it’s stupid - but I just felt like - like ya needed tha’." He scuffed a toe along the floor. "Sorry sir."  
  
The dryer buzzed and Kraglin turned pulling out the coat and holding it out for Yondu to put on. The Centaurian snorted, hopping off the bench with a thud and slipping his arms in the sleeves. Bony hands squeezed his shoulders lightly.  
  
Yondu let it slide. He was beginning to like this, whistling, knife throwing, laundry doing, don’t take no shit from nobody, asshole.  
  
Just a little.

* * *

 

Kraglin floated through the rest of the day on a high of a successful job, a decent cut of units in his account, and the memory of the captain sitting causally on the laundry bench, legs swinging back and forth.  
  
While waiting in line at the mess, he thought about Yondu. He held some kind of weird allure that Kraglin couldn’t shake, like the man had bored into his brain with a drill and set up residence in there.  
  
His lips unconsciously went together whistling out the first few bars of ‘What I Like About You’ by The Romantics. A hand came up, clapping him roughly on the back of the head, cutting off the cheerful sound.  
  
The Hraxian turned to see Skull, the first mate of the _Eclector_ glaring at him through slitted amber eyes, "Shut yer fuckin’ trap scud."  
  
Kraglin sighed dejectedly, best not to piss off the man who made the rosters, least he be on bog duty for the rest of his miserable existence.  
  
"Hey now Skull, ya got a problem wit’ Obfonteri here?" Yondu asked, appearing beside him in a swirl of leather and attitude.  
  
The burly Xandarian sniffed haughtily, "Aye sir, this piece o’ Hraxian trash whistles just ta piss e’eryone off."  
  
Yondu tipped his head, with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His tone was dangerously thin when he replied, "Ya wouldn’t be fixin’ ta imply Obfonteri here is a lesser bein’ than you a’cause o’ where he were born would ya?" The Centaurian paused, "Think _reeeal_ hard ‘fore ya answer that one Skull, ‘cause ya’d be implyin’ somement a lot more unsavory if’in ya do."  
  
The Xandarian looked like he’d just swallowed something nasty. "No sir."  
  
"Well ya ain’t any dumber than I gives ya credit fer, so lucky you." His arm slid companionably over the taller man’s shoulder, Kraglin - who was _much_ smarter than anyone gave him credit for - bent his knees just a fraction, so Yondu didn’t have to push himself up onto his toes to do so - bless him. "From what I hear, most people whistle ‘cause they happy, ya’ll be familiar wit’ tha fact I does it when somethin’s pissed me off. Now if I see anyone treatin’ someone like less o’ a bein’ ‘cause o’ where they came from Imma hafta assume they’s breakin’ section sixty-nine o’ tha code. Anyone know what tha penalty fer tha lovely number is?"  
  
"Twenty lashes an’ a night in tha brig Cap’n." Kraglin stated clearly, giving Skull a hateful expression.  
  
"See? If a fuckin’ rookie knows tha damn code I dun see how ma _first mate_ here can ferget it."  
  
"I know tha code!" Skull snapped.  
  
Yondu raised a single brow. The expression shouldn’t have held all the weight it did, but Yondu had a unique talent for making people uneasy.  
  
"Cap’n." The Xandarian amended quickly.  
  
The Centaurian smirked cruelly, "Yeah boy, you oughta watch that tone o’ yers, it’ll bite ya ass one day. Just fer that ‘m thinkin’ you c’n sit wit’ tha rookies taday." Yondu looked up at the Hraxian, "Obfonteri?"  
  
"Aye sir?"  
  
"Yer wit’ me."  
  
Kraglin blinked, "Sir?"  
  
Yondu rolled his eyes, "I stutter? Git yer food an’ come wit’ me."

Like a good little rookie, the taller man did as he was asked.

He held out his tray and Merle slopped some stew thing onto it. "Dun let’em worry ya kid, yer mighty good at tha’ whistlin’ junk." He winked.  
  
Merle was a skinny hick from a Nova colonised planet in the Andromeda galaxy, his family was so large it could’ve easily filled the _Eclector_ and then some. His people bred like orloni, overpopulating their system until there were billions upon billions of them stretched across the ten planets and twelve moons.  
  
Kraglin rather thought in the right light and if you squinted a little, he _sort_ of looked a little like a pale, blue eyed version of the captain, but everyone else thought he was nuts.  
  
He gave the man a kind smile. "Thanks Merle." He followed the captain to a table in the corner.  
  
Yondu slid onto the bench patting the space beside him. Kraglin slid up next to him, thigh brushing the older man’s.  
  
The Hraxian shoveled a spoonful of food into his mouth, "I can’t believe ya did tha’." He said around it.  
  
Yondu’s nose scrunched up like one of them Terran rabbit things - Kraglin quietly found it endearing - as he watched the younger man go at his food like it was about to get up and walk off the plate - which let’s face it, with Merle’s cooking, it was entirely possible.  
  
"Ease up boy, ain’t no one gon’ steal it off’a ya."  
  
His cheeks heated as he swallowed, "Sorry."  
  
The Centaurian shuffled his fork through the stew, "Ain’t right how they treat ya, just ‘cause you’s a rookie dun mean ya got any less right than tha rest o’em."  
  
Kraglin snorted, "It ain’t ‘cause ‘m a rookie Cap’n, it’s ‘cause they think ma species is as dumb as shit."  
  
"Are ya? Dumb as shit?"  
  
Kraglin shot him a glare, "I c’n stick ya wit’ a blade right ‘ere, right now, ya know. Ne’er see it comin’."  
  
Yondu smirked, "Weren’t what I asked ya tho’ were it?"  
  
Kraglin shrugged, "I dunno - no? Shit, Cap’n ya git told yer dumb yer whole life an’ ya start believin’ it, whether or not ‘s actually true."  
  
"C’n ya read ‘n’ write?"  
  
The Hraxian shot him a look, "Course I can. ‘M fluent in three languages. I c’n speak, read, an’ write in all o’em."  
  
Yondu’s brows shot up, "Well _hell_ boy, you smarter’n me. I c’n speak three languages but I can only read ‘n’ write in Xandarian. Stakar taught me back a’fore I had tha _Eclector_."  
  
"What languages ya speak?" Kraglin asked curiously.  
  
"Xandarian, Centaurian, an’ - Kree."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Yondu snorted, "Yeah. Oh."  
  
"Sorry sir."  
  
Yondu clapped him on the shoulder roughly, "Stop apologisin’ Krags, you’ll know if ya pissed me off."  
  
"How’s’at?"  
  
The Centaurian gave him a mean - yet somehow still playful - leer, "I’ll whistle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs whistled in this chapter are; Ain't That a Kick in the Head - Dean Martin and What I Like About You - The Romantics.


	3. Do You Feel a Certain Sense of Synergy Between Yourself and Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu thinks it all ‘details’ and Kraglin avoids projectiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme song for this chapter is 'Days Like These' by The Cat Empire, but I couldn't incorporate it because it came out in the early 2000's and this story is set B.P.Q. (Before Peter Quill), I wasn't really specific with dates but it's like the 70's/80's.
> 
> Enjoy :)

Yondu decided he needed a holiday. Every part of the last fucking week had been a nightmare. So, he set a course to Enzo V, which was a beautiful planet with warm sandy beaches and little bar shacks lining the boardwalks - fruity cocktails with upwards of ten shots in each - it was perfection. He would later learn from a certain - particularly _annoying_ \- piece of cargo which ended up sticking around like a nasty case of the flu, that it resembled a place on Terra called Tahiti.  
  
On approach he let the crew know they had a three-day weekend, the responding roar was deafening and Yondu grinned, heading towards the hangar.  
  
He bumped into Kraglin on the way. "Krags, ya got a ride ta tha surface yet?"  
  
The man scratched at an eyebrow, "Uh, nah not really."  
  
The Centaurian slipped a hand around his elbow to keep him from being pulled away by the crowd of Ravagers swarming around them. "Can ya fly?"  
  
Kraglin scoffed, "Could fly circles ‘round most o’ these fuckers."  
  
Yondu barked out a laugh, "Confidence is key boy an’ ya got tha’ in spades."  
  
"‘S true but." The Hraxian grumbled.  
  
"Come’on ya c’n co-pilot wit’ me."  
  
"S-seriously?"  
  
Yondu gave him a look, "Yer really inta second guessin’ e’erythin’ ain’t’chu?"  
  
"Sorry Cap’n."  
  
The Centaurian sighed irritably, "Damnit what I tell ya ‘bout apologisin’ all tha fuckin’ time?"  
  
Blue crept up the back of the younger man’s neck, "Sor- uh - right. Dun apologise. Got it."  
  
Yondu chuckled, "Yer a real treat." He dragged the taller man towards the _Warbird_.   
  
Kraglin wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

* * *

Kraglin couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, as desperately as he tried. The sight of Yondu in shorts and a shirt with the collar flicked up, barefoot with little round sunglasses on the end of his nose was damn near hysterical.  
  
The Centaurian smirked happily, "This here’s cookout weather bitches!" He called to the surrounding crew, a good-natured cheer went up around them and he popped his beer in the sand, next to a hole he’d dug. "Nobody touch ma fuckin’ beer!" Yondu began carefully loading the wrapped slabs of meat into the hole.  
  
Kraglin sauntered over, plopping himself down in the sand next to the older man. "Ya look happy sir."  
  
Yondu threw his arms out, grin never fading, "‘S hard not ta be Kraggles. This here’s a lil’ piece o’ paradise." He took a swig of his beer, "I tell ya, if ‘m ever ol’ an’ crusty enough ta retire. Imma buy me a slice o’ this here beach an’ live out tha rest o’ ma days fishin’ an’ gittin’ drunk."  
  
The Hraxian chuckled, "I reckons that’s a nice dream Cap’n."

Yondu’s smile seemed slightly sad now, "Ain’t much o’ nothin’ if’in ya dun ‘ave someone ta spend it wit’ tho’."  
  
Kraglin smirked, "Cap’n, if I ain’t mistaken that were a lil’ bit o’ sentimental, romantic crap comin’ outta yer mouth."  
  
The Centaurian shoved him into the sand as he sat down, "Must be tha heat an’ tha drink, ‘s makin’ ya delirious."  
  
He laughed, "Sure. Whatever helps ya maintain yer ‘rough ‘n’ tough dun care ‘bout nothin’ but me’ facade."  
  
"Yer a cheeky fucker Kraggles."  
  
The Hraxian shoved him back, "Yeah, but ya actually like me - at least a lil’ - or ya would’a chucked me outta tha airlock tha first time I ran ma mouth off at ya."  
  
Yondu picked up his beer, looking down the neck of it and realising it was empty. He tossed the bottle aside and pulled another one from the case he was leaning against. "Ain’t no one e’er had tha balls ta talk ta me like tha’ since I hit cap’n, ‘cept tha ol’ man an’ his cronies. Still ain’t sure what possessed me ta let ya."  
  
"Gotta have one asshole ta keep ya on yer toes." The taller man replied as he lay back in the sand.  
  
A Yondu shaped shadow appeared as the man leaned over him, "Had ta be you huh?"  
  
Kraglin took a sudden breath as his brain caught up with how close the other man was. The corner of their hips were pushed together, one of Yondu’s elbows leaning on the case of beer with a bottle between his fingers, the other arm caging him in as the older man hovered over him.   
  
His face wasn’t close enough for Kraglin’s brain to short circuit and do something incredibly dumb - like see whether those navy lips would taste like salt and sun and traces of beer - but he could see little details in his captain’s face that he’d never noticed until now.  
  
Like the scarring that marred the right side of his face was actually dangerously close to his eye, that his ears were just slightly pointed at the tips, and that despite his boisterous, young-at-heart attitude there was a decent amount of grey beginning to creep into his beard.  
  
A single brow raised above the sunglasses, the grin that spread across his face showing off a row of crooked silver and enamel, "Tha heat make ya catatonic or what? Hrax is one o’ them hot planets, like Centauri IV, right? All humidity and shit?"  
  
Kraglin shook himself out of his daze, "Huh? Oh! Yeah, uh - still hot as hell even wit’out all tha forests. Feels more like a desert now, dry heat ya know?"  
  
Yondu grunted, pushing himself back up - allowing Kraglin to think straight again - and leaning his shoulders against the case of beer. One arm went up behind his head, showing off the patch of sweat spreading across the black shirt. The Centaurian sighed happily, "Shiiiit. This was a good idea Krags." He interrupted himself with a bone cracking yawn. "Remind me ta do this again sometime."  
  
The Hraxian chuckled, "Dun fall asleep sir, you’ll burn yerself ta a crisp."  
  
Yondu waved a hand lazily in the air at the taller man, "Bah! Details boy, details."

* * *

 

He regretted those words three days later when his skin started to shed like dandruff. The tiny scales that held all the important stuff in itched like crazy, and every time he scratched a cloud of iridescence would fly up around him making him feel like one of those stupid damn fairies he’d read about in a fantasy novel once.  
  
What was left of his molars would be ground down to nothing if he kept sitting on the bridge trying not to scratch. In a flourish of leather and bad mood he got up, grunted at Skull to call him if anything needed his attention and stomped off towards his cabin. Maybe if he itched in the shower until he was raw, it would stop the shedding.  
  
When he entered his room, already removing his jacket, he stopped short. A very pink Kraglin was standing next to a basket of clean washing, arm bent at an unnatural angle attempting to reach the centre of his back. The man was facing away from the Centaurian, groaning as his fingers were just out of range of the itchy spot.  
  
Yondu snorted, "I think I remember tellin’ ya not ta take off yer shirt."  
  
The Hraxian jumped, cursing. He turned with a glare, "An’ I remember ya tellin’ me that it was all ‘details’." He snipped back.  
  
Yondu’s fingers began working at the buckles on his vest, "Fair point." Once the vest was thrown off onto the couch he pulled at his scarf. He worked the knot undone and yanked it off, a poof of iridescence floated up around his head, making him growl.  
  
Kraglin blinked, then bent over in one of those gut splitting laughs. The Centaurian snarled picking up a trinket among is blankets and pegging it at the giant sun burnt beanpole. The asshole did some kind of acrobatics to avoid being hit, still snickering away.  
  
"Shaddup ya gobshite."  
  
"Aww come’on Cap’n it’s kinda funny."  
  
Yondu crossed his arms and pouted, "No it ain’t. It’s itchy an’ it’s makin’ me look like a fuckin’ magical woodland creature."  
  
Kraglin pushed his lips together, trying and failing to hold in the snort. Yondu tossed a holopad at him.  
  
The Hraxian caught the thing centimetres from his nose and tossed it back on the bed.  
  
Shit he was quick.  
  
The Centaurian picked up half a dozen items scattered across his bed, tossing them in quick succession. Each was either effortlessly avoided or caught.  
  
Kraglin smirked, standing a little straighter and waggling his eyebrows. Yondu sneered playfully and whistled, immediately two knives appeared in the Hraxian’s hands and his smirk turned a little feral.  
  
Unexpectedly Yondu’s dick throbbed and a look of shock passed quickly over his face. He swallowed heavily, realising the low sound wasn’t his ears ringing but rather Kraglin _growling_ and _fuck_ he’d never wanted anyone more.  
  
Yondu whistle was a little shaky when he recalled the arrow. "Relax Kraglin. Was just playin’."  
  
The knives disappeared back into the man’s sleeves and he shook his head as if to clear it. "Uh right - sor-" Kraglin sighed, "Force o’ habit, git backed inta a corner an’ - ya know?"  
  
Yondu gave him a look that told him he knew all too well what that was like. "Yeah I know."


	4. Blow a Kiss, Fire a Gun, We Need Someone to Lean On.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu cusses a lot and Kraglin gets shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head cannon about Yondu's height complex sneaks its way into another fic lol

Whenever they went out on a job, Yondu found himself placing Kraglin in his team more often than not. He liked having the Hraxian at his back,  he lurked in this fantastically unique way that made Yondu feel damn near invincible, like as long as Kraglin was there, he had nothing to worry about.  
  
This particular job was acquired through a regular contact of the Ravagers but unlike usual it wasn’t a bounty or a precious artefact they were after but rather information.  
  
Yondu had put together a team of five; Zane, one of Merle’s younger brothers who was quite possibly the best hacker in the known universe; Legion, a heavily modified woman from Drugapore, a planet that breathed a weird mix of carbon dioxide and sulphate, the majority of her vital organs had been replaced with mechanical ones in order for her to survive outside of her own atmosphere, ruthless and cutthroat she was perfect muscle for the job; Tux, a soft-spoken Kree servant girl who was of half-cast bloodline, therefore no better treated than Yondu was as a slave. Despite his intense hatred of all things Kree, the captain had taken a shine to the girl and she was a stealthy little thing which would be extremely useful; then there was Kraglin, stealthy, vicious, and smart, the exact type of man the Centaurian needed at his back; and finally himself; practically perfect in every way.  
  
Yes, his ego does fit through doors, _ta very much_.  
  
It had all been going rather swimmingly - until suddenly it hadn’t.  
  
Zane and Tux were M.I.A., comms had gone dark so they had no way of knowing whether or not the pair had the information or if they were even still alive, Legion had been shot in the lung and suffocated to death before any of them could reach her and now Kraglin and him were crawling blind through the central ducting system. The Hraxian was smearing deep blue blood along the pristine metal from a shoulder wound, one that should have been Yondu’s had the fool not gone and stepped into it.  
  
Deep ruby lighting flooded through the grate ahead of them. Kraglin grunted as his injured shoulder caught on the wall. "Think that might be an elevator shaft sir."  
  
Yondu glowered, "What I wanna know is how tha fuck they knew we was here an’ why tha hell we didn’t have all tha intel. Tha fuckin’ jammers ‘ave got everythin’ out. Thank fuck ma implant’s jammer proof or we’d be in even more shit."  
  
Kraglin stopped crawling, shuffling himself around to kick out the grate. Yondu got his knees under himself, which was a great deal easier due to his - height.  
  
He did not have a _complex_ about it. Say it with me, kids.  
  
"Here." He said gruffly, positioning Kraglin’s head in his lap, "Dun wanna fuck up that shoulder any more than ya need to."  
  
"Brace it fer me while I give this thing a kick?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, wrapping his arms carefully around the Hraxian’s shoulders, he curled over the other man forehead braced on the top of his mohawk. His nose was buried in the man’s thick hair, it smelt like sweat, hair gel, and that faint scent of welding. Yondu realised with a grin, that smell was uniquely Kraglin, exactly as his scarf had smelled the first day he’d met the man.  
  
"Ready?" The Hraxian asked.  
  
Yondu’s grip tightened, "Yeah go ‘head."  
  
Kraglin gave a wounded cry as his foot came down on the grate, "It budged." He grunted through gritted teeth. "One more should - should do it."  
  
The Centaurian held him a little tighter, "Yer doin’ so good Krags." He murmured into the scruffy hair.  
  
A single bony hand came up and squeezed his arm before bracing back onto the vent floor. "Shit this is gunna fuckin’ hurt." He raised his knee as high as it could go in the cramped space and brought it down on the grate with a bone-jarring kick.  
  
Yondu held onto the taller man as his entire body seized up in pain. A litany of ‘fucks’ fell from pale lips on repeat. "Ya alright?"  
  
"Been better." Came the choked reply.  
  
"Come’on, let’s git outta this hellhole."  
  
The younger man nodded, shuffling himself around again to poke his head out of the hole. "‘S an elevator shaft a’right sir."  
  
"‘S good, elevators lead to exits."

Kraglin rummaged around in his pockets for his pair of gloves. He slipped them on flexing his fingers, "I reckons we can slide down tha cablin’ Cap’n. Git us ta tha bottom level then we c’n git out."  
  
"Sounds good." Yondu pulled a set of black leather, fingerless gloves out of the inside of his coat and put them on.  
  
The pair slid out of the cramped shaft and onto one of the small maintenance panels that littered the walls. The Centaurian assessed the situation critically. "Ya can’t climb down that wit’ yer shoulder Krags, you’ll slip straight off."  
  
Kraglin set his jaw, "I c’n do it sir."  
  
Yondu shook his head stubbornly, "I’ve no doubt ya can Kraglin, ‘s more tha fact I dun wanna risk ya fallin’ an’ endin’ up in a disturbin’ly cute lil’ dead heap at tha bottom." He ignored the way Kraglin blushed hotly as it wasn’t conducive to concentration. "Ya c’n hang onto ma arrow."  
  
"Uh - ya c’n do that?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, "C’n do a lotta things."  
  
The Hraxian smirked wryly, "Full’a surprises ain’t’cha?"  
  
The older man rolled his eyes and whistled a crooning note which had the arrow doing a pretty little flip in the air before hanging tip down towards Kraglin. "Grab on, I’ll lower ya down an’ climb this cablin’."  
  
He did as he was asked then looked worriedly at the captain, "Shouldn’t ya wait ‘til ya git me down, then use it yerself?"  
  
Yondu shook his head, "We need’ta keep movin’, gotta find tha others an’ git tha hell outta here ‘fore we git nabbed."  
  
" _Cap’n_." The reply was exasperated.  
  
" _Kraglin_." He answered in a mockery of the same tone.  
  
"Dun want ya ta fall ta yer death sir."  
  
"I won’t Krags, both ma arms work - thanks ta you."  
  
A smirk. "What was that sir?"  
  
Yondu sneered, "Ya heard me ya bloody idjit."  
  
He whistled sending Kraglin down the shaft.  
  
"Woe, woe, woe!" The Hraxian laughed a little, "Shit, this is weird."  
  
Yondu shook his head, chuckling. Moving over to the elevator cabling he got his footing and began to climb down. He worked the arrow so he and Kraglin could stay pretty much next to each other most of the way down.   
  
"Why’d ya do it?" The Centaurian grunted as he climbed.  
  
"Do what sir?"  
  
"Step in front o’ that shot."  
  
"Because it were goin’ ta hit you." He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"Didn’t have ta though. Ain’t nothin’ in tha code statin’ ya gotta keep tha captain protected from his own stupidity."  
  
"Course I did, your ma frien- uh - yer my cap’n."  
  
Yondu snickered as he paused searching for a foothold, "We _friends_ boy?"  
  
Kraglin shrugged, blushing. "I dunno - yeah? I thought so - I mean - we hang out a lot. Ya come visit me in tha laundry room, ya take me on pretty much all tha jobs ya go on, we pretty much spend tha whole weekend together on Enzo V. Yer - yer fun ta spend time wit’."  
  
The Centaurian snorted, "Yer ‘bout tha only person what thinks so Kraggles."  
  
"Yeah, well they’s fuckin’ idjits sir. Yer a riot. Yer funny, yer interestin’, ya tell some crazy fuckin’ stories, an’ ya fight like a damn demon. What’s not ta like?"  
  
Yondu smiled, "See that’s what I like ‘bout ya Krags, ya test ma patience and ya feed me ego boy. Lovely combination tha’."  
  
Kraglin opened his mouth to say something and Yondu paid more attention to him than what he was doing. As a result, he slipped, falling backwards off the cabling.  
  
"Yondu!"  
  
His coat was snatched up by Kraglin’s. There was a pained cry as it wrenched on the taller man’s injured shoulder.  
  
"I ain’t gonna let ya go sir."  
  
Yondu looked down, "It ain’t that far Krags, lemme drop."  
  
"No!"  
  
Yondu snarled, "Yer gon’ fuck up that shoulder worse an’ ya ain’t no good ta me a cripple boy! Lemme. Fuckin’. Go."  
  
The Hraxian grit his teeth. "No."  
  
Yondu sighed, slipped his arms out of the coat and dropped.  
  
"Cap’n!"  
  
He crouched into the impact, but one of his feet gave a sickening crack. The Centaurian crumpled onto the elevator roof. "Gud fer nothin’, muthafuckin’, titty-suckin’, piece o’ _shit_!"

"Sir?! Ya ok?"  
  
"Somement in ma foot went crunch, which let’s face it, is just fuckin’ typical." He called up. "Ya ok?"  
  
"Me?!" Kraglin laughed a little hysterically, "I didn’t just jump three storeys!"  
  
"‘M fine. Fuck knows, I’ve fought wit’ worse."  
  
"Damnit Yondu," the man replied as he touched gently down via deadly arrow, "ya near gave me a heart attack."  
  
That was twice now the Hraxian had used his first name without even blinking. For some reason he decided to let it slide.  
  
"Gotta keep ya on yer toes Krags." He grinned.  
  
Kraglin smirked back, "Had ta be you huh?"


	5. Don’t Get too Close, it’s Dark Inside, it’s Where My Demons Hide.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu kills some people and Kraglin gets a promotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied non-con in this chapter - off screen, only small details - just a heads up.

Yondu didn’t like sitting still. If he did it for too long his shitty knee seized up and that spot at the base of his spine where they dug in _real_ deep ripping his _tahlei_ out began to ache.  
  
Hence why he paced a lot.  
  
So having a broken foot wasn’t - _ideal_.  
  
And sitting was _boring_.  
  
He wanted to do something - _anything_ at this point.  
  
Then he heard the jaunty whistling and he grinned as the bridge crew flinched collectively.  
  
He pinged Kraglin’s comm.  
  
"Hey Cap’n, ‘sup?"  
  
"Git onto tha bridge Obfonteri."  
  
"Uh - right now? ‘M kinda on ma way fer a coffee."  
  
Yondu raised a brow, "Git us a cup will ya? Four sugars."  
  
"Uh - sure, yes’sir."  
  
The whistling disappeared for a few minutes. When he heard it again it was steadily getting louder.  
  
Kraglin appeared carrying two cups, he easily ducked under a nav’s fist aimed at his skull, grin feral, "Ya missed me bitch."  
  
Yondu chuckled. "Kraglin."  
  
The man appeared at his side, handing a cup off to the captain, "Need anythin’ else sir?"  
  
The older man curled his hand around the cup and took a sip.  
  
Huh.  
  
Kraglin made a good cup of coffee.  
  
He looked up, finding the other man’s eyes, "One o’ ma undershirts went missin’ ya ain’t see it have ya?"  
  
The Hraxian looked up thoughtfully, "No sir. I can have a dig around when I put yer washin’ in yer room if ya want?"  
  
Yondu raised a brow.  
  
Kraglin blushed, "Or not."  
  
The Centaurian sighed, "Well if ya see it down there-"  
  
"Aye sir, I’ll let ya know."

* * *

  
Yondu was just hobbling awkwardly over to his bed when there was a tentative knock on his door. He frowned, it was almost 0100, who the hell would be bothering him now? He sat heavily on the bed, rolling the sleeves of his shirt down over his arms. "Yeah? What’chu want?"  
  
"Cap’n? ‘S Kraglin. Found yer shirt."  
  
Yondu reached over to the draws next to his bed and pulled his wristpad off the top, unlocking the door.  
  
It slid open and Kraglin stumbled over the threshold. The Centaurian chuckled, idiot must have been leaning on it.  
  
"What’chu doin’ still workin’ boy? Ya ain’t got no night shifts this week."  
  
The man shrugged, "Nothin’ sir, just finishin’ up ma jobs." He was looking at his boots and his speech was slightly slurred.  
  
Yondu frowned, "Look at me."  
  
Kraglin shook his head.  
  
The Centaurian clicked his tongue irritably, "Kraglin. Look at me."  
  
The Hraxian slowly raised his head and Yondu sucked in a sharp breath. His face had been beaten to hell, both eyes were a ruddy purple, a deep gash through his left eyebrow, his lip was swollen and his was nose was puffy, bruised and slightly different, like someone had crudely reset it. Worse of all - his throat had big blackened hand prints around it.  
  
"What the _fuck_ happened ta you?"  
  
"Nothin’ sir."  
  
Yondu snarled, "Dun bullshit me boy! Who tha fuck did this ta ya?!"  
  
"Some - some o’ tha guys. They called me yer _pet_." The word was spat out viciously, all snarl and teeth. "‘Cause I were whistlin’ an’ some o’ ‘em saw me bring ya a fuckin’ coffee, like that makes me yer bitch or some shit, I was already gettin’ ma own. They’s got it out fer me. Reckon ya got some kinda ‘soft spot’ fer me or somement." Kraglin spat on the floor, "Fuckin’ assholes."  
  
Yondu winced, "Why didn’t ya fight back Krags?"

The purple bruising made his eyes even more vivid as he glared at the captain. "I did. I knifed one o’ ‘em across tha cheek, but there were a lot o’ ‘em. They held me down an’ -" He looked down.  
  
White hot rage filled the Centaurian, "Kraglin." He said, trying to keep his voice even. "Come here."  
  
The Hraxian shuffled forwards, curling in on himself.  
  
"Sit down."  
  
Kraglin sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed and Yondu slid a leg up onto the mattress to face him. "Tell me they didn’t do -" He closed his eyes briefly, fighting off a memory. _Hands where he didn’t want them, sneers, cruel laughter, pain._ He swallowed, throat clicking. "Did they -"  
  
Kraglin’s eyes were watery when he looked back up, "Ya want tha truth sir, or ya want me ta tell ya wanna hear?"  
  
The Centaurian looked down at the bed. "Fuck." He picked up a disguarded trinket and threw it at the wall. "FUCK!" He wanted to pace, but his foot prevented him, instead he held the mattress in a death grip glaring at the floor, "I’ll kill ‘em. I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL ‘EM." The words echoed around the cabin.  
  
The Hraxian laughed humourlessly, "Wit’ all due respect sir, ya can’t do shit, else they’ll think it’s true, that ‘m - yers an’ all."  
  
Yondu’s eyes shot up to his. "Who did it?"  
  
Kraglin broke eye contact, looking down at his boots, "Sir I-"  
  
" _Who_ Kraglin?"  
  
"Yer - yer first mate an’ a bunch o’ his lackies Cap’n."  
  
Yondu glowered, he’d almost expect it from the regular crew, not all of them held up to the code after all, but not from his first. The man he was supposed to _trust_ at his back. He wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t coming from Kraglin, but the Hraxian had no reason to lie.  
  
"Go see Lefty. She’ll fix ya up."  
  
"Sir I-"  
  
Yondu put a tentative hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.  
  
"‘M sorry." Kraglin murmured.  
  
"What tha _hell_ ya sorry fer?"  
  
"I shouldn’ta told ya."  
  
Yondu gripped his shoulder and turned the man to face him. Kraglin wouldn’t look him in the eyes, so he tilted the man’s chin. He knew he probably looked terrifying, eyes and implant lit up with overflowing rage, but he needed the Hraxian to understand this. "It _ain’t_ yer fault, ya hear me? It ain’t yer fault. They did - hell boy, they tha one’s what’r’ wrong."  
  
Kraglin bit his lip until it bled, blinking rapidly. "I - I told ‘em n-no, I spat an’ - an’ I snarled an’ I c-cussed. I - I fought ‘em b-but -"  
  
Yondu’s memories snapped into sharp focus; _cruel hollow eyes, a sneering smile, a deep voice telling him to take it, that he loved it. Pain. So much pain. Blue fists pushing against a solid chest, sobbing, too weak to fight back._  
  
The pale hand on his cheek made him recoil. Kraglin snuffled loudly, "C-cap’n? Ya ok? Y-ya went somewhere else."  
  
Yondu swallowed the scream in his throat, voice coming out hoarse, "‘M fine. ‘S - ‘s just a -"  
  
"Shit. ‘S happened ta you ain’t it?"  
  
Yondu looked away, swallowing heavily and nodding, "Long time ago."  
  
Arms encircled his chest and Yondu froze, "‘M sorry."  
  
The Centaurian blinked, staring down at the spiky pile of hair. He closed his eyes, biting his tongue.  
  
Then he did something he’d never done.  
  
He let go.  
  
His arms wrapped securely around the thin man pressed into his chest and he buried his nose into that spiky hair.  
  
The Centaurian squeezed his eyes shut against the torrent of salty water threatening to spill over. "Should’a n’er fuckin’ happened. Not on ma ship. Not here. Not in ma damn - _home_."  
  
Kraglin pulled back, "Weren’t yer fault sir."  
  
"They’s gon’ pay Krags, I promise ya tha’."  
  
"Cap’n ya can’t-"  
  
The Centaurian shook his head, "We dun hurt our own - not like tha’ - it’s in tha code. So’s I can, an’ I fuckin’ _will_."

* * *

 

Yondu had killed people before. Hundreds, maybe thousands if he was totally honest with himself.

Never quite like this though.

Never so - gleefully, so much blood lust.

He knew it was because of Kraglin, the strange urge to - protect the idiot from - well _everything_.  
  
Kraglin was like one of those stupid shiny trinkets that he kept all to himself, hidden in his cabin - for no one to see but him. He didn’t analyse too closely what that actually meant, lest he end up in a panic attack, but Kraglin was - _important_. He couldn’t say how or why - he just - _was_.  
  
After the crew witnessed one of the most brutal things they’d ever seen, Yondu turned to them and wiped the blood off his face. "Lemme make this perfectly clear, ‘less some o’ ya’r’ too fuckin’ stupid ta git it. We adhere ta tha code set out by tha Ravager Cap’ns, e’ery single one o’ us. Those fuckers broke that code. Ya’ll follow tha’ thing ta tha letter or this’ll be yer fate. Do I make maself clear?"  
  
Three hundred and seventy-two fists thumped respectively against the flame.  
  
Yondu nodded, "Good." Yondu looked around at his crew. "Now, ya’ll can pro’ly see that ma first mate were among those what broke tha code, which no doubt tells ya’ll none o’ us is exempt from tha rules. E’ery one is held accountable fer their actions on this ship, ya break code an’-" He trailed off slinging a hand out behind him at the carnage. Yondu grinned sinisterly. "Glad we understand each other." He paused for effect. "Obfonteri! Git yer ass up here!"  
  
Kraglin strode through the parting crowd. He appeared confident to those around him but Yondu could tell by the slight shift in his gait that the man was quietly freaking the fuck out. His face had almost completely healed at this point, only the slowly scarring gash above his eye was evidence to what had occurred.  
  
Yondu had made a tactical decision to wait until after his foot had healed and the Hraxian’s face stopped looking like Merle’s Thursday meat surprise before striking against his late first mate and his idiots. He didn’t want it to appear to the crew like Kraglin was the cause of their deaths. The only people left alive who knew the truth was himself and the man now walking towards him.  
  
"Cap’n?" Kraglin asked.

Yondu grinned, there wasn’t so much as a waiver in the man’s tone. Calm, confident, and above all trustworthy.  
  
The Centaurian hooked an arm around his shoulders and pulled him up to stand beside him. "Fer those o’ ya who dun know ‘im. This here is Kraglin Obfonteri, the new first mate o’ tha _Eclector_."  
  
His crew thumped the flame in respect.  
  
Yondu grinned, "Now let’s fuckin’ party!"  
  
A deafening roar went up from the crew and they began to disperse.  
  
" _What?!_ " Kraglin squeaked in Yondu’s ear.  
  
"Congratulations boy."  
  
"Cap’n are ya sure? I mean - I dunno tha first thing about runnin’ shit."  
  
Yondu scoffed, "Ya run that there laundry room like a well-oiled machine Krags. You’ll do just fine."  
  
Kraglin blushed a little. "But sir, ‘m _Hraxian_."  
  
Yondu glowered, "What I tell ya ‘bout tha’ shit?"  
  
"It don’t mean nothin’."  
  
"I need someone at ma back I can trust." Yondu pulled his arm off the warm shoulders and turned himself to look at the taller man. "Can I trust ya Krags?"  
  
The man’s eyes hardened in determination and he thumped the flame twice. "I won’t let ya down."  
  
The Centaurian smirked, a tooth hooking over his top lip, "Good."

* * *

 

Two days later, the meeting room was crowded, twenty men stood around the large table as Kraglin finished explaining the heist.  
  
"Any questions?"  
  
Yondu crossed his arms over his chest, this was the boy’s play and it was a damn good one. The Hraxian had thought of everything.  
  
"Yeah." A burly man with green skin stepped forwards, getting up in Kraglin’s space. "Gimme one good reason why we should listen ta a backwater scud like you?"  
  
Kraglin’s eyes hardened, he raised his left arm, a quiet snick and a squelching sound had a retractable knife stabbing up through the man’s jaw, cerulean blood flying up and pattering into the Hraxian’s hair like rain. "Any more _fuckin’_ questions?" He growled. No one spoke, and the blade retracted into Kraglin’s jacket, man crumpling to floor. "Good."  
  
Yondu chuckled. "Yer a ruthless lil’ fucker Obfonteri. We leave at 0900 boys, make sure yer ready or ya git left behind an’ yer take gits forfeited."  
  
The crew filed out, leaving Kraglin and Yondu alone.  
  
The Hraxian gave him a smirk, "Ain’t tha one what’s lil’ Cap’n."  
  
Yondu raised a brow incredulously, "Ya callin’ me short Kraggles?"  
  
"Nah sir." He replied as he walked towards the door. "Ya ain’t short, yer fun size." A cheerful whistle started up in the corridor as Yondu gaped at his first’s cheek.  
  
He gave a short, sharp trill and his arrow shot off around the corner.  
  
The Hraxian’s whistling was cut off by an ‘Oh Shit’. The sound of boots pounding against metal grating getting louder as the arrow chased him back to the meeting room. Yondu’s joy at hearing his first mate run was short lived as the man bolted into room and careened into him, sending them both crashing to the floor.  
  
The Centaurian groaned, rubbing the back of his head, "I may not have thought that completely through."  
  
Kraglin began to laugh, a rich chuckle pushing its way into Yondu’s chest and settling there as a comfortable warmth. "That bit ya in tha ass didn’t it?"  
  
Yondu shoved the taller man off him, scratching his brow with the back of his thumb, "Lil’ bit."  
  
Kraglin sat back on his ass, long legs stretched out in front of him, "This heist is gunna go a’right ain’t it?"  
  
The older man pushed himself up onto his elbows, "Ya planned fer just ‘bout e’erythin’ so it’s likely. Can’t account fer e’ery variable there is tho’ so’s ya know, if it does go wrong, it won’t be ‘cause o’ you."  
  
The Hraxian nodded, "I just dun wanna screw this up. Ya put yer trust in me ta do this job an’ I - I dun wanna let ya down sir."  
  
Yondu smirked, "E’eryone fucks up Krags, it happens. Long as ya dun break tha code or stab me in tha back, you’ll do fine."  
  
Kraglin smiled, "Thanks sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs whistled in this chapter are; Saturday Night Fish Fry - Louis Jordan & You Can't Hurry Love - The Supremes.


	6. You Did Not Break Me, I’m Still Fighting for Peace.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu fucks up, then fixes it and Kraglin feels special.

It’d been six months since Kraglin had become first mate and Yondu was proud of the boy. He’d blossomed in the role, becoming a confident leader.  
  
He was still a cheeky bastard but never in front of the crew and his cheerful whistling had become commonplace on the bridge, no one flinched anymore, except when his whistling changed. It seems the man had taken a leaf from Yondu’s book, and while he couldn’t control a yaka arrow as soon as Kraglin’s whistling became haunting tunes from horror films the crew would flinch almost as hard as when the Centaurian himself whistled.  
  
Of course that was all irrelevant at this particular moment. Yondu sat on the sand, steam curling off his soaking leathers under the heat of the planet’s star. Kraglin lay a few metres away, panting heavily on his back.  
  
"Still alive there Kraggles?"  
  
"Aye sir. Ya a’right?"  
  
"I’d be a damn sight better if we hadn’t just been shot down boy."  
  
"Does tha _Eclector_ know our position?"  
  
Yondu nodded, kicking his foot through the red sand, "Beacon’s functionin’ fine but tha long range comm’s out so I dunno how long it’s gon’ take fer ‘em ta come git us."  
  
Kraglin sat up coughing out some seawater, "Urgh, tha water tastes like shit."  
  
The Centaurian snorted, "Pro’ly somement yer dirty ass ate earlier."  
  
The taller man threw a rock in his general direction, "Dick."  
  
Yondu snickered, "Got one. It’s mighty fine too lemme tell ya."  
  
A very subtle blush spread up Kraglin’s neck, "Yer insufferable Yondu." The blush intensified, "Uh - I mean - _Cap’n_."  
  
Warmth settled in his gut, a weird ball of tension that made him want to - he didn’t know, but it was definitely strange.  
  
The Centaurian pulled himself to his feet, excess water pouring out of the creases in his leathers. "Come’on le’s see what we can salvage. In case we’s gotta spend some time here."

* * *

They’d spent a full cycle on the island when Kraglin came trudging back from the stream just passed the tree line to see Yondu making a bow.  
  
"What’cha up ta Cap’n?" He asked as he put their flasks down in the shade of the crashed ship.  
  
Yondu pulled the high tensile wire he’d pillaged from the ship down to the notch he’d made on the wood, testing the drawback. "Can’t stand eatin’ anymore o’ that protein paste Krags, need some proper meat. Tha whistle makes too much noise ta hunt proper, need somement silent."  
  
Kraglin swallowed staring at the man. The captain’s coat had been abandoned inside the ship, the weather too humid for it to be sensible to wear, his usual long-sleeved shirt, vest, and scarf had also been thrown inside leaving him in nothing but his sleeveless black undershirt. The Hraxian watched muscled biceps bugle as he pulled the string back again.  
  
He came to the horrifying conclusion that perhaps he wanted to bone his captain.  
  
Just a little.  
  
He looked up again seeing that Yondu had abandoned the bow and was drinking from his flask, his throat bobbed as water spilled over the sides of his mouth, running down to join the sweat soaked into the undershirt.  
  
_Fuck_.  
  
Ok a lot.  
  
Yondu wiped his mouth, burping and throwing the flask back down. He looked up at Kraglin with a puzzled expression, "Git outta tha sun Kraggles, yer goin’ practically neon boy."  
  
The Hraxian started violently, "Y-yes’sir."  
  
A frown followed his stuttering. "Ya ok?"  
  
He plopped himself down in the shade, "Yeah. This heat is fucked."  
  
The older man chuckled, "Yeah, ya ain’t wrong."  
  
"Ya want some help huntin’?"  
  
Yondu shook his head, "Nah, ‘s a one-person job." He chuckled, "‘Less ya wanna fetch tha kills."  
  
Kraglin’s eyes hardened, words coming out like a spitfire, "Like a dog?"  
  
The smile dropped off the Centaurian’s face, "Nah, come’on Krag I didn’t mean it like-"  
  
"Fuck you _sir_." The Hraxian snapped as he stomped into the wrecked m-ship.  
  
Yondu sighed, rubbing his forehead, "Shit."

* * *

 

Kraglin woke with a start to the sound of the captain’s whistle. He frowned, as it changed to a slightly different frequency than usual. The Hraxian stretched out the kinks in his back from dozing in the co-pilot seat and went out onto the beach.  
  
Yondu was standing next to a small fire, bow strung across his middle, the wood fitting snugly against his back. He whistled his arrow and Kraglin watched in awe as the flaming tip died out and he caught it in his palm.  
  
"Holy fuck! I didn’t know ya could set tha thing on fire!"  
  
Yondu squinted at him through the slowly setting sun, "Yeah neither did I until a few years back. Had a nasty bout o’ tha flu an’ ma whistle weren’t workin’ right. It were a bit o’ a surprise when tha tip started flamin’ like a hell fire. We was in tha middle o’ a negotiation, had ta feign I knew all along she could do tha’." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Since then when we got some down time I take her out inta tha middle o’ nowhere an’ change it up a bit, try ta see what else she c’n do."  
  
The Hraxian smirked, " _She_?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, the tips of his ears going a few shades darker. He rattled off a bunch of sounds the translator couldn’t decipher, "Means ‘freedom’ in Centaurian."  
  
Kraglin felt a warmth bloom in his chest, "Geez Cap’n that’s actually kinda - sweet."  
  
"Shaddup." He picked up a slab of meat from the carcass he’d hung under one of the wings of the ship. "Caught us a big bugger. Should last ‘till them assholes git here wit’ tha _Eclector_."  
  
After the meat had cooked Yondu cut off a massive piece and handed it to Kraglin. He took it with a small smile, the Centaurian watched him carefully as he took a bite. Kraglin felt a little awkward with those ruby eyes so intently on him, "‘S - uh - ‘s good sir."  
  
Yondu snapped out of whatever daze he’d been in and nodded. He cut off a piece for himself and bit into it. They ate in silence for a few minutes.  
  
"Yondu." The Centaurian murmured.  
  
The taller man raised an eyebrow, "Uh - what sir?"  
  
"Ya c’n call me Yondu - when we’s not ‘round tha crew like."  
  
Kraglin felt like his heart was in his throat, he swallowed thickly, not really understanding why that meant so much to him.  
  
"Ok - Yondu."  
  
The Centaurian smiled at him shyly and Kraglin was sure he was dreaming. This wasn’t real, it couldn’t be - right? He felt like an equal in that moment and he found himself grinning. He got up and rummaged around in their pile of supplies. He waved the bottle of gutrot around, "Look what I found earlier."  
  
Yondu looked pleased. "Ya found ma stash! I was sure that would’a got broke durin’ tha crash."  
  
Kraglin shook his head, "Nope, found it under tha nest."  
  
"Nest?"  
  
The Hraxian chuckled, "‘At’s what yer bed looks like - a nest."  
  
Yondu looked affronted, "Centaurians don’t ‘nest’."  
  
"Whatever ya say si- Yondu."  
  
He plopped back down in the sand next to the captain and handed him the bottle.  
  
The Centaurian grinned, "This is tha good stuff, extra strong, we’s c’n git proper sloshed on this." He pulled the cork and took a swallow, handing it off to Kraglin.  
  
The Hraxian gulped some down then spluttered at the strength, "Holy _shit_!"

Yondu let out a boisterous laugh, clapping the younger man on the back. "Easy there boy."  
  
Angrily Kraglin shrugged off his arm, "Stop callin’ me tha’! I ain’t yer _boy_." He was starting to lose grip on his surroundings, heart beating erratically, breathing uneven and jerky. "I ain’t a pet or a dog. Ya can’t just do what-whatever - can’t - breathe - shit - I ain’t - dun want ya ta-"  
  
"Kraglin!" Yondu shook him roughly, "Look at me Krags."  
  
The Centaurian was all blurry, the Hraxian blinked.  
  
"Ya ain’t there, yer here wit’ me an’ I ain’t gon’ let nothin’ hurt ya understand?" The taller man blinked at him owlishly. "Krags I need ya ta answer me darlin’ ok?"  
  
"Y-yes."  
  
Yondu tipped his head so that they made eye contact, "‘M always gon’ take care o’ ya. Nothin’ ain’t never gon’ happen ta ya that ya dun want ok?"  
  
"Ok."  
  
Yondu tried for a kind smile - despite the fact he wasn’t very good at them it seemed to calm Kraglin a little. "Ok, Imma teach ya somement tha doc taught me after I were freed. Ya think ya c’n give it a try?"  
  
The Hraxian nodded.  
  
"Close yer eyes an’ go ta a place what makes ya happy. No one c’n hurt ya there ‘k?"

There was a nod.

When Kraglin closed his eyes, he saw the beach they were on, Yondu right next to him, arms securely around him. It was night, millions of gorgeous stars in the inky black sky, the fire crackling in front of them, bouncing off Yondu’s skin, making all the microscopic scales glisten. The sound of the waves behind them.

"Alright, good job darlin’. Take it in. Tha sights, tha sounds, tha smells - all o’ it."

Kraglin breathed in deeply - the salt from the ocean, leather, booze, sweat, and _Yondu_ \- his tropical, earthy smell mixed up with all the others and the Hraxian sagged in his arms, completely at ease.

Yondu chuckled quietly, "‘K, ‘at’s good. Now concentrate on yer breathin’, take a deep breath in and then out, slow down yer heart rate." His voice was a quiet gravelly murmur - all rust and twang.

Peace spread through Kraglin, nothing could hurt him here.

"A’right how ya doin’?"  
  
Kraglin took a shaky breath, "Much better." He replied opening his eyes. He looked up at Yondu from where he was slumped across his chest, the man was gazing down at him, smiling softly. "Thank you."  
  
"Glad I could help darlin’."  
  
Kraglin was glad the dusky light hid his blush. "So - uh - what tha hell was that?"  
  
Yondu sighed, "Ya had a panic attack, I used’ta get ‘em a lot after -" He shook his head. "Tha doc called it PTSD - some mumbo jumbo ta do wit’ trauma an’ stressful situations, sometimes somement - could be anythin’ tha sight o’ somement, a smell, a - a word - it triggers a memory an’ ya git stuck there an’ ya can’t claw yer way out. ‘S dangerous see ‘cause ya unintentionally deprive yer body o’ air, ya c’n pass out. I done it a couple times ‘fore doc taught me how ta do what I just did wit’ ya. Once ya know what ta look fer ya can do it yerself, but it took me months ‘fore I could do it proper. ‘S hard ta go ta a happy place when ya dun ever remember havin’ one."

"Where’s yers?"  
  
Yondu looked up at the sky, "Used ta be tha stars, I was in tha void - but I could still breathe - just total silence, no sound, no smells, nothin’ but black - peaceful."  
  
"So where is it now?"  
  
The Centaurian raised a brow.  
  
"Ya said ‘used ta be’."  
  
Yondu glowered, "Ya’ll gunna laugh at me."  
  
"No I ain’t."  
  
"Ya will."  
  
"Come’on Yondu - please?"  
  
"You first."  
  
Kraglin sighed, "Right here."  
  
"Wha’?"  
  
He blushed fiercely, "I imagined bein’ here - wit’ you."  
  
Yondu tipped his head to the side and smiled - a real genuine smile. Kraglin wanted to kiss him so bad it made his teeth ache.  
  
"Tha laundry room." The Centaurian murmured.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
Yondu got this faraway look in his eyes, "‘S stupid, but after that first time I lost ma scarf? I had an attack a couple days later an’ I went there. ‘S got that smell o’ them spices, it’s real soothin’. I’m always watchin’ ya work - whistlin’ away ta whatever I heard ya whistle last - nothin’ but me an’ you, tha world just - fades away. Like nothin’ matters, I can just - relax."  
  
Kraglin’s heart leapt into his throat and he began to lean up as Yondu - eyes hooded and yearning - leaned down.  
  
The Centaurian’s comm crackled to life and the pair jumped.  
  
"Cap’n? Ya’ll alive down there?" Tullk sounded far too cheerful for Yondu’s liking.  
  
He scrambled for his jacket on the inside of the airlock into the ship. "Damn, took you fuckers long enough! Ya know how fuckin’ hot this shitball planet gits durin’ tha day? I feel like a damn pig at a luau, it’s hot as fuck! Should leave tha whole lot o’ yas down here, see how you fuckin’ like it."  
  
Tullk chuckled, "Be there in ten Cap’n."  
  
Yondu turned to Kraglin, pulling on his shirt and buckling vest. He shucked on his jacket and held out a hand. "Come’on Kraggles, let’s go home."


	7. Send Me the Warmth of a Secret Smile, to Show Me You Haven't Forgot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu and Kraglin beat each other up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't let the summary fool you, this is positivity cavity inducing ;)

Yondu found himself gravitating to wherever Kraglin was during his down time. B.K.O. (Before Kraglin Obfonteri) he would trudge off to his cabin with a bottle of gutrot and something to read or watch. Now though - now he would find his first mate and hang out with him.  
  
He suspected Kraglin may have been right - that it made them _friends_ or something.  
  
This time he was in the ring, fighting a man easily double his size, and - whistling ‘Anarchy in the U.K.’. Yondu chuckled heartily and elbowed his way to the front of the crowd.  
  
Kraglin saw the Centaurian and spared him a cocky little smirk. He landed a few more blows, gave Yondu a cheeky wink then stopped toying with his opponent, performing an elaborate maneuver that had the other man hitting the mat unconscious.  
  
The Hraxian made eye contact with Yondu. "Anyone else?"  
  
The older man smelt a challenge. He took off his jacket and shoved it at ‘Nuttie. "Hold this." He stepped up onto the mats, "Wanna try yer luck wit’ me Obfonteri?"  
  
"That depends sir, is it ship policy ta _let_ ya win?"  
  
Jeers surrounded them and Yondu bristled a little, "What makes ya think yer gon’ win?"  
  
The answering grin was part manic, part feral. "A handsome asshole once told me - confidence is key, an’ I got tha’ shit in spades."  
  
Yondu’s ego puffed up at the words.  
  
_Flattery will git ya inta ma pants, but it won’t help ya win darlin’._  
  
"No weapons?" He questioned.  
  
"No sir. I won’t use ma teeth neither, can’t surrender them ‘less ya knock ‘em out."  
  
"Well let’s see how many I c’n git rid of then."  
  
He lunged predictably at the Hraxian, who side-stepped, exactly as Yondu thought he would. He caught a long leg with one arm, over balancing Kraglin and sending them both to the mat with a dull thump. The Centaurian landed a blow to the man’s stomach with his elbow, ducked under the swipe at his head, then was promptly thrown off when the Hraxian planted his feet.  
  
Kraglin used the momentum to throw himself over Yondu, landing a solid punch to the older man’s jaw before flipping himself up and away. The Centaurian grabbed at his ankle, sending him to his knees and clocking him in the kidney. The Hraxian let out a wheeze before kicking out, Yondu blocked it with his forearm and Kraglin grunted in dissatisfaction. He scrambled up facing the captain with his fists raised like a boxer.  
  
Yondu got slowly to his feet, grinning like a loon. He cracked his neck. "I ain’t gon’ go easy on ya."  
  
"Wouldn’t expect ya to Cap’n."  
  
The Centaurian’s look turned sinister. "Then stop goin’ easy on me."  
  
Kraglin’s eyes turned that special type of feral Yondu loved so much and he launched himself forwards.  
  
From there it was just - _brutal_.  
  
They were equally matched, both too stubborn and proud to give the other the upper hand.  
  
After an hour most of the spectators had trickled away.  
  
After two somebody called Lefty.  
  
"Tha _hell_ you two think yer doing?!"  
  
The pair froze looking up. Yondu in a headlock his implant receiving a beating, Kraglin getting every part of his insides pummeled from blue fists.  
  
"Yondu Udonta so fuckin’ help me boy, I will call Stakar on your ass if you don’t stop beatin’ on Obfonteri’s kidneys!"  
  
The Centaurian gave an irritated huff, sounding like a petulant five-year-old when he answered. "‘M tha one in tha headlock, how come I’m gittin’ yelled at?"  
  
"Obfonteri! Let tha Cap’n go!"  
  
Kraglin shook his head. "He’ll bust ma ass if I do that Lefty."  
  
The woman rolled all eight of her violet eyes, "Imma bust both yer damn asses ya don’t let each other go right fuckin’ now!"

Yondu looked up and smirked. He gave an experimental tug of his neck and Kraglin’s arm tightened. The Centaurian chuckled, hand coming up to squeeze the taller man’s ass. There was a startled yelp and Kraglin’s arm loosened. Yondu pulled his head out of the lock and stepped away.  
  
"Good match Obfonteri." He wiped the blood off his face, his nose was still pouring. Lefty grudgingly handed him a gauze.  
  
Kraglin wiped the cut under his eye, "Yeah, ya ain’t a bad fighter Cap’n."  
  
Yondu shot him a look, "Were a Kree battle slave, dun git much better at scrappin’ than that."  
  
The taller man shrugged, throwing him a smirk, "Was still winnin’ at tha end tho’."  
  
He turned incredulous eyes on the Hraxian, "Ain’t no way in _hell_ ya were winnin’!"  
  
"Yeah I-"  
  
Lefty was tempted to grab them both by the ear and smack their skulls together. "Fer _fuck_ sake. Let’s just call it a tie eh? Git yer stupid stubborn butts ta tha med bay."  
  
Yondu raised a brow and Kraglin crossed his arms.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, "Do it, or next time ya git injured - an’ ya will ‘cause you both reckless idjits - I dun think I’ll bother ta fix ya’ll."  
  
Lefty was the only person on the ship who held any weight against the captain and his first mate. A less than subtle threat of no future medical treatment was enough to have them moving.  
  
Yondu shucked on the captain’s coat and Kraglin fixed up his jumpsuit. As they headed towards the door the Centaurian shoved the Hraxian lightly. The other man responded, shoving back.  
  
Lefty cursed under her breath, "Stardamned fuckin’ children I swear."

* * *

 

They’d beaten each other pretty soundly and Yondu woke with aches in places he’d forgotten he had. He stretched like a cat, spine popping and neck crunching. Picking up his wristpad he noted it was a good hour before he actually had to move from his little ‘nest’, as Kraglin had called it.  
  
He pulled up his slew of mail and began answering them. Three from Kraglin, all regarding various things that needed fixing. They had a trade off on Knowhere from a job scheduled next, but after that they would head to a junker planet for parts. He let Kraglin know to adjust their course.  
  
Next was a notice for the Ravager meeting next month. Yondu rolled his eyes, he equally loved and hated those meetings. He got to see his family, but he had to spend the weekend _behaving_.   
  
_Urgh!_ Not his strong suit.  
  
There was a tentative knock on his door and Yondu raised a brow.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Cap’n?" Came the soft reply. "Brought ya a coffee."  
  
Yondu grinned, fingers flicking over his wristpad and unlocking the door.  
  
Kraglin poked his head in with a pretty black eye and a grin. "Just got an email from ya so’s I figured ya were already awake."  
  
The Centaurian snorted and waved the man in.  
  
His first mate came baring the gift of coffee and one of Merle’s protein slabs - fresh from the oven if the steam was anything to go by. Yondu loved those things, they were sweet and gooey - his favourite type of snack.  
  
The taller man chuckled, "Ya got no chance convincin’ me that yer people dun nest Yondu. Look at ya, all bundled up in there. If I were suicidal I’d tell ya it’s cute."  
  
Yondu glowered, "But ya ain’t."  
  
"Nah. So, I won’t mention ya look like a lil’ cat all rugged up an’ adorable."  
  
The captain felt his cheeks heat and he snarled. "Fuckin’ cheeky bastard."  
  
Kraglin just grinned wryly, sitting on the side of the bed to hand over the goodies.  
  
"How far are we from Knowhere?" Yondu asked before shoving the whole protein slab in his mouth and slurping coffee in around it.  
  
Kraglin lay back on the bed arms under his head, long legs stretched out in front of him. "‘Bout half a cycle I reckons."  
  
The Centaurian snorted. "Oh sure, make yerself at home Kraglin." He replied dryly.  
  
The Hraxian ignored the sarcasm in favour of nodding at the ceiling. "What’s wit’ tha patch job?"  
  
Yondu looked up, "Oh." He chuckled. "Dean Martin’s fault that is."  
  
The confused look was almost worth the embarrassment of telling the story.  
  
"Tried ta whistle like you do - ya know, songs an’ shit?" He shrugged. "Arrow went berserk and punched a hole through ta tha deck above. Not ma smartest idea. Lucky it didn’t pierce the bulkhead. So yeah, no cheerful whistlin’ fer lil’ ol’ me."  
  
Kraglin’s laugh started as a snort - a small sound that he tried to keep in - that turned into all out hysterics.  
  
Yondu chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up Kraggles. Real fuckin’ funny." He was smiling though, the Hraxian’s laugh filled him with a warmth as sticky and sweet as the protein slab that lingered on his tongue.  
  
He let that warmth fester in his blood until Kraglin’s laughter petered off into the occasional chuckle.  
  
"A’right, enough laughin’ at my expense." He glanced at his wristpad and wondered absently if he could get ready in less than twenty minutes, just so he could steal five more minutes with Kraglin.  
  
He shrugged internally. He’d already been brought breakfast and a coffee, he could afford a little time.  
  
He glanced over at his grinning first mate, lying next to him as if they didn’t have a care in the universe.  
  
He could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song whistled in this chapter is; Anarchy in the U.K. - The Sex Pistols. (The anthem to my teen years :p)


	8. I don’t usually do this ‘less I’m Drunk or I’m High but I’m Both right now and I need You in My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which poor Kraglin gets embarrassed, misunderstands, and then gets mad and Yondu vividly remembers why he doesn’t call his parents, fucks up, gets drunk and let’s future Yondu deal with the fallout.

When one of the main engines decided to up and crap out on them, they were just outside Knowhere. His pilots did their best to hobble the _Eclector_ into the dry dock on the rear of the skull, he’d negotiated the docking fee down some, but it was still going to cost him a fortune to keep her docked and fix her up.  
  
It was a two-week job minimum and Yondu was pissy as shit about it. He trudged off to his cabin to make the inevitable call to the higher-ups, throwing himself down in his desk chair and pulling up the projection. Pressing the button that would connect him to the _Starhawk_ , he drummed his fingers on the table top, waiting.  
  
"Yondu! How’s my favourite red coat?" The grinning crystal face made Yondu roll his eyes.  
  
The Centaurian glowered, "Can it Marty. Where’s Stakar?"  
  
"Pleasant as always Yon. Hang on."  
  
Stakar appeared, "What can I do for you Yondu?"  
  
The younger man saluted respectfully. "Stakar, this frutarkin’ ship ya gave me’s a hunk o’ crap."  
  
The man chuckled, "What happened? The only time you call your old man is when something’s blown out."  
  
Yondu grumbled, he supposed that was true, but he’d never been big on the whole _feelings_ thing, they confused him more than anything so not having them seemed like a better option. He made a mental note to call the old bastard more.  
  
"One o’ tha main engines blew out."  
  
Stakar leaned forwards slightly, concern colouring his weathered face, "Are you alright?"  
  
The Centaurian snorted, "We was just outside o’ Knowhere when it happened. Managed ta git ‘er dry docked but it’ll be a two-week repair job so’s we’ll be outta action fer a bit. Thought I should let ya know, so’s ya dun think ‘m skimmin’ tha profits."  
  
The older man huffed, "You know I wouldn’t think that son. Do you need more mechanics? I can send some."  
  
Yondu shook his head, "We’s got it handled. Gon’ be expensive as fuck but."  
  
"You let me know how much it costs and I’ll have Martinex make a note of it."  
  
The younger man nodded, "How’s Lettie?"  
  
Stakar grunted looking away and Yondu chuckled.  
  
"What’cha do?"  
  
He rubbed the back of his neck sighing heavily, "I _may_ have forgotten our anniversary."  
  
Yondu blinked, then barked out a laugh, "Ooo boy ol’ man tha’s a doozy, she ain’t gon’ talk ta ya fer a loooong time."  
  
"When was the last time you called your mother anyway?" He shot back.  
  
Yondu’s cheeks tinged navy, "‘S been a while I guess."  
  
"Then you’re in the dog house as much as I am."  
  
The Centaurian scoffed, "Nah, _I_ didn’t ferget yer anniversary. Sent ya’ll a gift an’ e’erythin’."  
  
Stakar’s jaw dropped slightly, "You did?"

He leaned back in his chair, sticking each thumb under a strap across his chest, looking entirely too pleased with himself for Stakar’s liking.   
  
"Yep." He replied popping the ‘p’. "Pretty new gun fer each o’ ya. ‘Course ya ain’t gon’ git yers now are ya?"  
  
"Damn it. Call your mother and tell her I’m sorry."  
  
The Centaurian laughed, "I ain’t doin’ yer dirty work fer ya ol’ man, ya got yerself inta it, ya c’n git yerself out."  
  
The biolock behind Yondu cycled and he turned. Kraglin was looking down at the holopad in his hands when he entered. Long legs taking him towards the desk. "Yondu, this repair is gunna cost us a fuckin’ fortune. Why couldn’t the damn thing wait ta blow out ‘til we got ta Rodes VII? It’s like tha frutarkin’ thing knew we was headin’ ta a junker planet!" He shuffled his butt casually up onto the desk. The Hraxian looked up from the pad, "How’ya doin’? Ya need-" He stopped when he saw the projection and Yondu leaning back in his chair, shoulders shaking, fighting a laugh. "Shit. Uh - s-sorry Yon-Cap’n didn’t realise ya were busy."  
  
Stakar raised a bemused eyebrow expectantly.  
  
Yondu sniggered loudly at his first mate’s blushing face. Poor bastard looked like he would rather be ejected from an airlock than be here right now.  
  
"Stakar, this is ma first mate Kraglin Obfonteri. Krags this is tha Admiral o’ tha Ravagers."  
  
"Holy shit." The Hraxian squeaked quietly. "Uh - it’s an honour sir."  
  
Stakar scoffed, "Cut that crap out kid. You’re my boy’s first mate, no reason to be so formal."  
  
"Uh - ok? Well - I’ll just - come back later Cap’n, lemme know when yer free yeah?"  
  
Yondu let him stew awkwardly for half a minute before letting him off the hook, "Sure Kraggles, I’ll com ya darlin’."  
  
The blush was nearing neon at this point and Kraglin shot off the desk. "O-ok. Nice to - uh - nice to meet ya Admiral." He was out of the door before either of them could say a word.  
  
"He’s awful flighty son."  
  
"Bah! He’s fine, just didn’t expect it I reckons."  
  
"Since when did you allow crew to call you by your given name?"  
  
"I dun."  
  
"That boy there just called you Yondu twice."  
  
The Centaurian blushed, "Kraglin’s different. He’s-"  
  
"Special?"  
  
The younger man scoffed, "No."  
  
"Oh I see, just like Aleta wasn’t ‘special’ to me. I bottled it up until all that ‘nothingness’ exploded and well - you know the rest."  
  
"Yer slippin’ slowly into senility there ol’ man ‘cause tha’ didn’t make a lick o’ sense."  
  
Stakar rolled his eyes. Stars save him from his idiot adopted son. "Yondu, it’s clear you like the man."  
  
"‘Course I do, he’s ma first. Damn good at his job too. ‘Specially since he were a rookie when I gave it to ‘im."  
  
Stakar gave a long suffering sigh, "You gave a _rookie_ second. Son, don’t ya think that means _something_?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, "Sure. Means he were right fer tha job. I trust ‘im."  
  
"What happened to that other guy? What was his name?"  
  
Yondu snarled, "Skull broke tha code. He - he - eighty-sixed."  
  
Stakar’s eyebrows hit his hairline, "Fuck son, why didn’t you tell me?! What happened?"  
  
"I handled it."  
  
"Shit Yondu, I’m sorry."  
  
"Don’t matter I made sure tha crew knew what they was dealin’ wit’ if they break tha code."  
  
"Yondu-"

The Centaurian thumped the desk with his fist, "Stakar dun’chu start goin’ all big daddy on me, I fuckin’ handled it _ok?_ ‘M fine, it’s fine. No pitty party bullshit, I dun fuckin’ need it."  
  
The man held up his hands, "Ok, ok. Sorry, I just - I worry about you son."  
  
Yondu scoffed, "Damn sentiment."  
  
Stakar looked away, jaw working. It was a heavy moment - almost tangible, Yondu could practically taste the other man’s anger.  
  
It dissipated in seconds - making the Centaurian wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing - and he turned back with a smirk, "So, _darling_ huh?"  
  
Yondu gave him that look - the patented Yondu ‘yer an idjit’ look, "Uh - what?"  
  
"You called him ‘darling’."  
  
The younger man flushed, looking anywhere but his mentor, "Did I?"  
  
He leaned back in his chair chuckling, "Pot meet kettle. You’ve got just as much of that dreaded ‘sentiment’ as me, son."  
  
Yondu grimaced, "I vividly remember why I dun call ya much now."  
  
Stakar rolled his eyes, "Relax Yondu I’m only teasing."  
  
The Centaurian glared, "Ain’t funny ol’ man."  
  
"Awww come on boy! Can’t a father tease his only son?"  
  
A touch of a smirk tugged at the younger man’s lip, "Ya ain’t ma daddy ya crotchety ol’ bastard."  
  
Stakar gave him a smug grin, "I am in every way it counts Yondu, you’re stuck with me son. Caring, worrying, sentiment, and all."  
  
Yondu rolled his eyes, "Oh fer fuck sake, ‘m goin’ now."  
  
Stakar pointed at him seriously, "Call your mother."  
  
"Oh fuck off."  
  
"You call her Yondu or I’ll get Martinex to tell her it’s your fault I forgot our anniversary."  
  
Yondu’s eyes narrowed to slits, "You wouldn’t."  
  
The older man gave him a disbelieving look, "Don’t try me son, I’ll make up some real convincing shit, you just watch me. Then she’ll descend on you like a pack of hungry bilgesnipe."  
  
Yondu bit his lip, why did calling Stakar always make him feel like a damned teenager. "Fine I’ll call Lettie, but I ain’t helpin’ yer dumb ass out."  
  
The Arcturan’s eyes went impossibly large and pleading, "Come on son, help your old man out."  
  
Yondu smirked, "Awww hell - fine! I’ll say somement nice ‘bout ya. I’m sure I’ll think of somethin’ nice at some point - might take a while."  
  
Stakar’s eyes narrowed, "Smart ass."  
  
Yondu flipped him off.  
  
"Let me know if you need anything Yondu."  
  
The younger man nodded, tapping the flame over his heart twice. "See ya ‘round ol’ man."  
  
"And son? Don’t push the boy away, you deserve happiness."  
  
Yondu cut the call quickly with a glare and Stakar sighed.  
  
That stupid blue idiot would be the death of him.

* * *

 

When Kraglin entered next he poked his head in first and it made Yondu bark out a laugh.  
  
"Relax Kraggles, it’s safe."  
  
The man entered with a blush. "Stars, I am _so_ sorry fer earlier."  
  
The Centaurian snorted, "It’s fine darlin'. Dun worry."  
  
"Dun worry?!" The Hraxian paced back and forth wildly. "That was tha _Admiral_ of tha fuckin’ Ravagers Yondu! I just - I walked in like we were star-damned lovers after a hard day’s work, only thing I didn’t do was kiss ya first!"  
  
Yondu leaned forwards from his place on the couch, Stakar’s words echoing in his ears. "Do ya wanna?"  
  
The words were so unexpected, Kraglin paced straight into the bulkhead. He cursed and rubbed his forehead, "W-what?"  
  
Yondu leaned back, attempting an alluring look - probably failing but the thought counted right? - "Do ya wanna?"  
  
His eyes hardened, "That ain’t funny Yondu."  
  
"I weren’t-"  
  
Kraglin cut him off, "No. When yer done bein’ an a-hole _Cap’n_ comm me."  
  
He stalked out of the room leaving Yondu to blink stupidly after him.  
  
Well shit. That hadn’t gone how he’d planned it at all.

* * *

 

After drinking himself into a stupor, Yondu awoke to his com beeping. He slapped it roughly, "Kraglin? Darlin’ ‘m sorry I meant what I said. I didn’t mean ta make ya feel-"  
  
"Yondu! My favourite menace! My little blueberry muffin! My stupid ex-husband’s first mate tells me you blew an engine."  
  
Yondu groaned, "He ain’t yer ex Ma, come’on."  
  
"Ma? Shiiit boy, you only call me that when something’s wrong. What happened honey? You tell Mamma all ‘bout it."  
  
Yondu flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, "Got shot down."  
  
Aleta sounded surprised, "Oh! Well there’s plenty more fish in tha sea -"  
  
"No! No. Not - not like him."  
  
"Son, you must be really drunk, ‘cause you ain’t never confess to havin’ feelings."  
  
"Think ‘m pro’ly still drunk - dunno I ain’t tried ta stand up yet. Dun think I’ll bother gittin’ outta bed taday - or tomorra or whatever - Ma."  
  
"Who is this boy Yondu? Imma smack him upside his stupid head for hurtin’ my lil’ blueberry."  
  
Yondu ran his hands over his face, pulling the skin under his eyes, "Maaaa!" He whined, then realised he was a grown ass man who had just regressed rather violently to a sullen teenager. Aleta had the unique ability to do that to him. "I c’n fight ma own battles Lettie, leave it alone."  
  
"Oh ‘m _Lettie_ now ya don’t wanna deal wit’ your feelings, huh?"  
  
"Maaaaa!" He whined again, then swiftly changed the subject, before he said something he couldn’t take back, "You taken the ol’ man back yet?"  
  
Aleta hmphed, "No and I ain’t gunna."  
  
"Awww hell Lettie he didn’t mean to ferget!"  
  
"My own damn son didn’t forget our anniversary! Why should he just automatically be off the hook huh?"  
  
"‘Cause ya love ‘im."  
  
"Do you love this Kraglin?"  
  
Damn. She always found a way to turn it back to him.  
  
"I ain’t n’er been in love Lettie."  
  
"So you ain’t got no idea what it feels like do you?"  
  
He sighed, obviously they were talking about this. "What’s it feel like then Ma?"  
  
She sighed wistfully, "Oh son. Ya don’t never wanna be without them, you think about them all the time. You fuck and you fight and you hate each other ‘til it makes you quiver but they make you laugh and smile and you share things with them you never thought you’d share with another living being. They make you ache with want and you miss them when they aren’t there and -" she paused, "and I need to call your father."  
  
Yondu chuckled, "Yeah ya do." He smiled, "Hey Ma?"  
  
"Yeah blueberry?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Oh! Well I didn’t really do anything but ok - you’re welcome. You - you call me if you need anything sweetie, anything at all."  
  
"Sure Ma. Stay safe yeah?"  
  
Aleta chuckled, "Can’t promise that my little menace but I’ll try - just for you."  
  
Yondu snorted. "Hey Ma? ‘M drunk so this don’t mean nothin’ but I love ya."  
  
There was a warmth in her voice when she replied, "I love you too my little blueberry."  
  
The call disconnected and Yondu stared at the ceiling for a long time. He picked up the half empty bottle next to him, he’d let future Yondu deal with that shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played with the idea of Yondu being the Ogord's adopted son here because it's been driving me nuts for a while to do something kind of fun and sweet with them, it ended up here because Of Laundry and Love just ended up with a lot of little plotty ideas I couldn't find places for :)
> 
> Also - When Yondu mentions Skull 'eighty-sixed' he's referring to the section of the code that his ex-first mate broke. It also means to destroy or break something down here in Australia for those of you who don't live in my neck of the woods ;)


	9. Your Love’s like a Big Hug on a Bad Day Just What I Need in My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yondu and Kraglin finally sort out their shit.

Past Yondu was an _asshole_.  
  
His head throbbed something fierce and his mouth felt like an orloni had crawled in there and died.  
  
A shower didn’t do shit. He still felt like a piece of fucking shit as he trudged blearily toward the mess in desperate search of about twelve cups of coffee and two full plates of straight up greasy shit.  
  
He bumped into Kraglin in the hall.  
  
"Cap’n." His voice was clipped and still clearly furious.  
  
"Krags." He swallowed the awful bile filled belch that threatened to make an appearance. Past Yondu was an even bigger asshole for not eating dinner last night. "‘M sorry."  
  
The Hraxian looked shocked, "Ya what now?"  
  
Yondu rolled his eyes, "Ya heard me."  
  
"Look can we do this after I’ve had coffee please?"  
  
Yondu thought he might have fallen a little bit in love.  
  
Smirking he patted the taller man on the shoulder, "Sure darlin’. Sure."

* * *

  
Three cups of coffee later and Kraglin was ready to address - whatever the hell the Centaurian wanted to say.  
  
"So Cap’n, what’s this talkin’ ‘bout _‘I’m sorry’_ bullshit?"  
  
Yondu shrugged, "‘M sorry what I said made ya mad but I ain’t takin’ it back."  
  
"Stars sir, ya c’n be a real asshole sometimes. Teasin’ me like yer pokin’ at a damn dog in a cage wit’ a stick _ain’t_ funny!"  
  
"I wasn’t-"  
  
"And another thing-"  
  
"WILL YA LET ME FINISH?!"  
  
Kraglin’s jaw shut with a click. His eyes glinted that gorgeous murky blue and Yondu just stared.  
  
The Hraxian rolled his eyes, " _Well?!_ "  
  
"Awww _hell_." The Centaurian gripped the front of his first mate’s jacket and pulled him into a heated kiss.  
  
Kraglin squeaked and as quick as it came it was gone and Yondu was getting up from the table. "I _meant_ what I said. When _yer_ done bein’ an a-hole _you_ comm me."  
  
The Hraxian watched him leave in a swirl of leather and attitude. He brought a hand to his still tingling lips.  
  
Well. _Fuck_.  
  
Kraglin spent the rest of the day in a haze of warring emotions. The captain never appeared on the bridge and Kraglin was mostly left alone, what with him whistling those haunting tunes, the crew knew they’d get threatened within an inch of their lives unless it was really important.  
  
The entire ship was powered down, except for the essential systems, leaving the bridge washed in a low blue light. He was on monitoring duty until Tullk relieved him after he got back from the marketplace.  
  
Most of the crew were either scheduled for helping with the repairs, doing a deep clean on the ship or on shore leave, they would be rotated in and out over their stay on Knowhere.  
  
Kraglin had shore leave during the next day cycle, but he didn’t know what he was going to do with himself so instead he pulled up the rosters and swapped himself onto laundry duty. He knew how to do that, that was simple - soothing.  
  
It would give him time to figure out what the hell to do about Yondu. It wasn’t the fact the man had kissed him so much as the fact he was certain the Centaurian wasn’t interested in anything more than a casual fuck.  
  
Kraglin wanted to be so much more.  
  
His mind supplied dozens of images of them fighting and fucking their way across galaxies. Together.  
  
He snorted at himself, "Way ta go Obfonteri, ya gone an’ got yer romantic ass mixed up wit’ an emotionally unavailable asshole, who just so happens ta be tha fuckin’ captain in’all. Brilliant way ta colossally fuck up yer day." He picked up a squishy fluffy thing Yondu had tacked to his chair and tossed it at the wall. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as actually breaking something but it made him feel a little better.  
  
He was so caught up in his own mind he failed to see the captain lurking silently in the corner by the door.

* * *

 

Romantic?  
  
_Shiiit._ Yondu knew as much about romance as he did quantum physics.  
  
Which was sweet fuck all.  
  
He knew how to flirt, fight, and fuck. He could captain the shit out of a ship and kill _real_ good. But _romance_ and _feelings?_  
  
Shit, he knew he had feelings but they were buried so deep inside the facade that made up his prickly personality he wasn’t sure where to actually find them.  
  
He needed to think.  
  
The Centaurian knew no one was scheduled to be on laundry duty today, he’d checked early yesterday morning and Kraglin would be on shore leave which left him to sulk around the ship in peace.  
  
Yondu entered the giant room void of life, filled with boiling vats and discarded washing and threw some of those spices into the water. The smell burst into the air like fireworks and he breathed it in. He shucked his coat onto the benches and climbed up onto the dryer. Shoving himself in the back corner as far as he could go, he made himself as small as possible.  
  
It was a little harder now that he wasn’t a small runt in the slave cages but old habits die hard and it made him feel safe. As an afterthought he pulled off his boots and dropped them off the side, they hit the floor with a dull thump. He settled his back against the wall, head between his knees and closed his eyes.

* * *

  
He was started awake by whistling. It was a morose tune, lilting and sad, but he knew that whistle as well as his own.  
  
What the hell was Kraglin doing on the ship?  
  
Yondu flipped his wrist, pulling up the roster. Sure enough, Kraglin’s name was scrawled in messy Xandarian next to laundry duty, right where it wasn’t yesterday morning.  
  
Kraglin put his wristpad on the bench, deciding that because barely anyone was on the ship he could play his music aloud for once.  
  
He looked for something happy because he was tried of feeling down about everything. He selected ‘Dancing with Myself’ by Billy Idol because that always put him in a good mood.  
  
He began to whistle the tune while he was working and Yondu watched silently from his perch.  
  
Kraglin was never going to be graceful, his arms and legs were too long and his body too thin, but there was something about the way he moved to music that mesmerised Yondu. He watched the man’s hips shake and thought about what Aleta had said love felt like.  
  
The Hraxian was always on his mind, even when he was pushed slightly to the back of it because of more pressing matters, he was still always there. He wasn’t sure about missing him, but if he had a thought or a funny to share he would always tip his head over his right shoulder and tell Kraglin first. If he wasn’t there Yondu got an empty feeling in his chest, he reckoned maybe that was what it felt like to miss a person.  
  
They fought often enough, both of them stubborn and fierce but whenever he saw Kraglin again it all just melted away. Whatever they had an argument about wasn’t nearly as important as making the younger man smile - or laugh - _damn_ Yondu loved his laugh. The Hraxian was always making him smile with those big expressive anime eyes, and his jokes were filthy, never failing to make the Centaurian snicker.  
  
Yondu told Kraglin things he’d never told another living being and it was as easy as talking about the weather, no bluster, no emotional walls - just inexplicable trust.  
  
The Centaurian blinked as all the air felt like it was sucked out of his lungs.  
  
Hell, that was love alright.  
  
It crashed through his veins like a rampant river, filling every part of him with a warm fuzzy feeling.

He smiled as Kraglin’s wristpad clicked over to a Dean Martin song. Yondu never claimed to be all flowers, chocolates, and sappy poems, but hell, he could dance.  
  
Dancing was romantic, right?  
  
He slipped quietly from the top of the dryer, holding out a hand, "Dance wit’ me?"  
  
Kraglin froze arms filled with washing, which he promptly dropped in a heap when his captain materialised in front of him. He saw the boots and looked up at where the Centaurian had been sitting, "Y-Yondu? How long have ya been hidin’ in here?"  
  
"All damn day." His hand was still out, a soft smile on his face, "Dance wit’ me?"  
  
The Hraxian blushed. "I-I dunno how." He stuttered nervously, but his hand gravitated to the upturned blue one anyway.  
  
Yondu pulled him flush against his body, snaking the other hand around his waist. The Centaurian lead them around, Kraglin doing his best not to stomp his boots onto Yondu’s sock clad toes.  
  
"Where did ya learn ta dance?"  
  
"Lettie taught me. Said I had ta know tha proper way ta woo a girl or some shit."  
  
"Never pegged ya fer a romantic." The Hraxian replied shyly as he was spun in an intricate circle.  
  
Yondu leaned into the taller man more, "I ain’t. I know how’ta do a lotta stuff. I c’n flirt, lay on tha sarcasm so thick ya could put it on toast. I know how’ta fight, cap’n a crew, and push people away. I ain’t never understood other people’s feelin’s or why they so damned important ‘til now, an’ I ain’t ne’er tried ta actually ‘woo’ someone a’fore."  
  
The Centaurian looked up into those murky blue eyes. Kraglin looked utterly gobsmacked.

He loved that word.

Summed up everything you wanted to say in a neat little package.  
  
Yondu felt - shy. Which was ridiculous because he was Yondu Udonta; the biggest, baddest asshole out in the black.  
  
A big, bad asshole who’d gone and caught _feelings_.  
  
Big squishy, lovely, awful, fantastic, terrible, incredible feelings for his first mate.  
  
"So," His voice all gravel and nerves. "Is it working? The ‘wooing’ like."  
  
Kraglin’s breath left him in a rush, his voice quiet and awed, " _Hell_ yeah."  
  
Yondu wasn’t sure which one of them moved first but there were lips and tongue and teeth and it was so damn perfect he wanted to scream.  
  
The Hraxian moaned loudly as Yondu tipped him into the pile of clean laundry. He fell over the younger man, elbows cushioned by the sheets and towels that surrounded them. The Centaurian broke off staring into the huge expanse of lust filled blue.  
  
"Aw hell Kraglin - darlin’ - is - I - fuck."  
  
_Congratulations Udonta, eloquent as always._  
  
"Why’d ya stop?" Kraglin panted, confusion colouring his tone.  
  
_’Cause I care about ya more than I rightfully should, more than a man like me deserves an’ I wanna know ya want this as much as I do._  
  
"Do ya - ya know this ain’t - I - fuck it all - I dunno what tha hell ‘m doin’ darlin’."  
  
_Hell, git a grip. If ya can’t even tell him this is more than a quick fuck -_  
  
Yondu closed his eyes and grit his teeth.  
  
He’d faced some terrifying things in his life, things that would make most turn and run and he’d faced them all with a manic grin and a whistle.  
  
This though - _this?_  
  
Putting himself out there, _trusting_ someone with his real feelings?  
  
That was the most terrifying thing he’d ever done.  
  
A gentle, warm hand covered the side of his face and his eyes snapped open.  
  
"Yondu?"

Losing himself in Kraglin’s expressive blue eyes, the words just - tumbled out, "This ain’t nothin’ - what we about ta do, it means somement. I - I care ‘bout you, hell, ya drive me crazy, yer all I ever think about. Tha way ya smile, tha way ya laugh, yer sense o’ humour, tha way ya care ‘bout me, yer purty eyes. Yer in ma head, always. I ain’t never been in love - but - I think this is what it feels like, so I wanna know - if this means as much ta you as it do ta me."  
  
Kraglin’s breath left him in a rush, "Shit - Yondu I -" He took a shuddering inhale, "Tha whole reason I got so pissed was ‘cause I thought all ya wanted was a quick roll in tha sheets." Yondu looked around them with a raised brow and they shared a chuckle. "I - I wanted ta be more’n that. I wanted it ta mean somement - tha romantic asshole I am - I wanted ya ta care as much ‘bout me as I does ‘bout’chu."  
  
Yondu pushed their foreheads together and grinned. "I think I love you more’n I love Beasties - an’ that’s a whole damn lot."  
  
Kraglin gave him a sardonic look. "Be still ma fuckin’ heart." He replied dryly.  
  
The Centaurian chuckled, "Hey - ‘M fuckin’ tryin’ here." Yondu felt fluffy and light as he looked into Kraglin’s amused eyes - it was weird. He rolled his eyes and huffed, "Right, we - we _care_ about each other." He tried to think of something - _anything_ romantic to say but he was drawing a blank. Yondu growled at himself. God he was _useless_ at this shit!  
  
Kraglin - bless that son of a bitch - chuckled and saved his ass, "Listen - it’s ok. I know how ya feel, ya dun hafta go sayin’ any soppy shit. It’s makin’ ya feel weird, I c’n see it."  
  
Yondu huffed, "I just - I dunno Krags I just - I ain’t fuckin’ built fer this shit. Bein’ wit’ ya - around ya - it’s so fuckin’ easy, I dun hafta think ‘bout what ‘m doin’ it just - comes natural right? Now I figured out - what I figured out - I dunno how ta do this an’ tha whole fuckin’ thing makes ma brain hurt."  
  
The Hraxian’s lip tugged up at one side and Yondu can’t get over how _cute_ he found that little smile. He wanted to kiss him, so he did. It was slow and sweet and everything Ravagers aren’t but the Centaurian couldn’t find it in himself to care because this was _Kraglin_ and it meant so much more than someone like him could dare to hope for.  
  
His fingers slid into the grimy gelled shock of hair on his first mate’s head as the taller man plundered his mouth like he was trying to lick all the gold fillings straight from Yondu’s teeth. Sheets tangled around them as Kraglin rolled and settled between the Centaurian’s legs. Yondu’s hands worked the zipper on the Hraxian’s jumpsuit, pushing it off his shoulders. The taller man broke away to pull off the black wife beater underneath and Yondu stared. From the neck down there was barely a piece of pale skin that wasn’t covered in black ink. His blue fingers were stark in contrast as he ran a hand through the thick wiry hair on Kraglin’s chest, tracing the designs almost reverently. The one coloured piece was a burnt sienna trail that curved around the Hraxian’s ribs, Yondu followed the pattern as it wound its way up and across his chest where it met an arrow - _Yondu’s_ arrow - in the centre of his sternum. Crimson eyes flickered up to Kraglin’s face. The man blushed fiercely and looked away.  
  
"Uh - yeah - can’t really explain that one without sounding utterly pathetic so - mpfh!"  
  
Yondu tasted copper as his incisor cut roughly into Kraglin’s lip. No more words needed to be said, and frankly the Centaurian wasn’t sure he could if he tried. The sight of Kraglin _marked_ with something of _his_ set off a primal part of his brain he’d forgotten existed and everything became a blur of white hot pleasure.

Suddenly he was blissfully naked and Kraglin was leaving crescent shaped bruises down his chest with his teeth and Yondu arched up into him, garbling something unintelligible - a mix of rough Xandarian and half formed clicks and whistles. There was a hot mouth taking him to the root and for about five seconds Yondu saw stars, until Kraglin gagged violently and pulled back, coughing.  
  
The poor bastard looked mortified and the Centaurian couldn’t help but snicker a little at his expense.  
  
"Thought I could still - it’s - uh - it’s been a while since -" He scowled "Stop laughin’!"  
  
That only made Yondu laugh harder, which caused Kraglin’s lip to twist and a snort escape. Suddenly they’re both laughing so hard it hurt and Yondu snorted in between his laughter, which sent Kraglin into a fit all over again.  
  
"Maybe -" Kraglin snickered "maybe we should stop tryin’ so fuckin’ hard."  
  
Yondu chuckled sliding a palm across the Hraxian’s beard, "Yeah." His abs strained as he brought himself up to kiss pale lips. His fingers wove into Kraglin’s hair again, pulling and tugging in an attempt to get closer - to get _more_. His teeth bounced off Kraglin’s sharp ones and he winced as the feeling vibrated around his skull.  
  
It was never going to be some cliche romance between them. Nothing would ever fall into place like one of those erotica novels Yondu had never quite kicked the habit of reading after he’d learned how, but damnit he was going to grit his teeth and _try_ because - despite everything - he _loved_ Kraglin and the Hraxian loved him back.  
  
Kraglin tilted his head so that their noses weren’t smooshed together and it was bliss. Long pale fingers ran up his sides cautiously, moving over scars and jutting bones that were never set correctly, those fingers followed that path up to curl around the Centaurian’s neck, deepening the kiss.  
  
Yondu could feel himself leaking precome in droves, the thick sticky substance matting the forest of wiry hair on the slight curve of Kraglin’s inked belly. He managed enough higher brain functions to untangle a hand from the Hraxian’s mohawk, reaching down between them to grip both their cocks in one large calloused blue palm.  
  
The slight sting of Kraglin’s teeth on his bottom lip was worth it as he took in the blissful expression on the taller man’s face.  
  
" _Fuck_ \- Yondu -"  
  
Yondu jumped when he felt the Hraxian’s cock lengthen and twist around his own, the head curling around his thumb, "Holy shit!"  
  
Kraglin whined rutting up into his fist, nails scratching across the Centaurian’s biceps. "Wha-"  
  
"Yer dick’s doin’ some magical shit Kraggles." He replied staring down at his hand in awe.  
  
"Pre-prehensile - _fuck_ -" The Hraxian rutted desperately up into Yondu’s hand, his cock squeezing the life out of the thumb it had attached to.  
  
Yondu tore his eyes away from the sight to leer at his first mate, "Ain’t that interestin’." He squeezed his hand a little harder than strictly necessary and Kraglin’s dick _writhed_ the taller man moaning brokenly and thumping his head against the Centaurian’s collarbone.  
  
Yondu’s grin was positively filthy - this he could do - his hand jerked their cocks together and he leaned forwards for a kiss with far too much teeth and tongue.  
  
The vice like grip loosened a little to allow the movement and Yondu’s stale moan filtered and mixed with Kraglin’s. In an embarrassingly short amount of time the pair were both teetering on the edge of orgasm. Kraglin crested the wave first, making a high whine of pleasure as his teeth gnashed against the Centaurian’s neck, grazing the skin raw and sending Yondu into the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced. It felt like flames licking along his spine, a garbled mix of sounds exploding from his throat as he covered them both in hot ropes of cum.

Kraglin’s head hit Yondu’s chest with a thump and he chuckled blissfully. "Fuck."  
  
Yondu snorted, "Hmmm."  
  
The Hraxian dove in for a long kiss, tinged with sweetness and the promise of something uniquely special.  
  
"Yer gon’ hafta wash these sheets again Krags." The Centaurian smirked, an incisor hooking over his lip.  
  
Kraglin stared at the expression. The word adorable popped into his mind and he knew there was no coming back from this, he was hopelessly in love with the captain. Warmth spread through him. "Yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs whistled/Listened to; D.O.A – Bloodrock, Obsession - Siouxsie and the Banshees, Behind Blue Eyes – The Who, Dancing By Myself – Billy Idol, Sway – Dean Martin.


	10. Epilogue

"Oi Kraglin! Listen ta this shit. This is our song darlin’."  
  
The Zune was plugged into the _Quadrant’s_ console and the Centaurian turned it up.  
  
"What _is_ this?" Rocket muttered, hands deep in the circuitry of a piece of m-ship he’d commandeered the dinner table for.  
  
"‘Whistle’ by Flo Rida." Peter replied with a smirk as he watched the ex-Ravager captain and his first mate.  
  
Gamora eyed them carefully, "What are they to each other?"  
  
Peter groaned, " _Please_ don’t ask them to define their relationship. Last time someone asked that, it ended really badly."  
  
"Is it sexual?" Drax asked as he looked up from his knives.  
  
Peter made a face, "Urgh! Eww - and yes."  
  
Drax nodded, "They are mated then."  
  
"I am Groot."  
  
Rocket dropped a wrench, " _What?!_ Groot - buddy - we - we _really_ need to talk about boundaries. You can’t just - _Jesus_!"  
  
Peter raised an eyebrow, "Do we want to know?"  
  
"No man. Not unless you wanna hear the disturbing details of yer ol’ man’s business."  
  
The Terran went pale.  
  
"What do you mean it ‘ended badly’?" Gamora asked.  
  
Peter gave her a small smile, "When I was - I dunno - ten or eleven? I clued into the fact they shared a cabin and a few times I had some nightmares and came running to Yondu - not that he ever did anything except tell me I was a fucking sook and that I needed to harden up, but I noticed they shared a bed. I asked if they were boyfriends -" Rocket snorted loudly and Peter glared at him. "I was, like, ten Rocket, shut up - anyway, they got into an argument about it. For those two an argument is like - a death match. You know how Kraglin talks with a lisp? Yeah, well Yondu broke his jaw. Krags can give as good as he gets though because you know how Yondu walks with a slight limp? Yeah, that’s because Kraglin blew out his knee with a metal pipe. Lefty was fucking livid at the state of them. By the time the whole thing was said and done an entire Quadrant of the _Eclector_ was decompressed and on fire and I knew _a lot_ more about sex than any kid that age ever should."  
  
The Guardians gaped at the Terran.  
  
Peter shrugged, "They are what they are."  
  
The group watched as Kraglin whistled along to the tune and Yondu smiled up at him from the pilots chair.  
  
"They are in love." Mantis said softly antennae lighting up softly.  
  
Peter beamed, "Yeah they are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for listenin' chiiiildren!
> 
> Much love to everyone who left comments and kudos, ya'll bring me to life! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Songs by Chapter:  
> 1 – Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On – Big Maybelle and Pistol Packin' Mama – the Andrews Sisters  
> 2 - Ain't That a Kick in the Head - Dean Martin and What I Like About You - The Romantics.  
> 3 - None.  
> 4 - None.  
> 5 - Saturday Night Fish Fry - Louis Jordan and You Can't Hurry Love - The Supremes.  
> 6 - None.  
> 7 - Anarchy in the U.K. - The Sex Pistols.  
> 8 - None.  
> 9 – D.O.A – Bloodrock, Obsession - Siouxsie and the Banshees, Behind Blue Eyes – The Who, Dancing By Myself – Billy Idol, Sway – Dean Martin.  
> 10 – Whistle – Flo Rida.
> 
> The concept of Hrax and Hraxian!Kraglin comes from the incredible Write_Like_An_American, who's stories I utterly adore <3 (and you should totally go read, like, all of them because they are amazing) So, shout to them for creating it because none of my stories would exist without their ideas :)


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